


Burned Into Memory

by Probably_Not_Batman



Series: Rebellion [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Dehumanizing comments, Eridan is a captain, Fluff, M/M, No Game AU, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Past Character Death, References to Depression, References to anxiety, Self Confidence Issues, Slow Build, Tags May Change, injuries, slavery mentions, slight body horror (related to being a helmsman)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Probably_Not_Batman/pseuds/Probably_Not_Batman
Summary: After being recruited for the Imperial Army, Eridan finds himself the captain of a fleet ship and receives a very strange gift for his troubles. A Helmsman. As he begins to learn more about the troll now piloting his ship, he begins to question everything hes learned and must decide which loyalties are more important. Those to the Empress and the rules of Alternia or the ones to his heart.





	1. Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> Alright this is the first thing I've written in years so please refrain from being too harsh. Tags for this chapter include: Themes of anxiety, some mentions of violence, minor character death, blood and language.  
> Thank you for reading!

           This was it. After sweeps of blood, sweat, and tears it was finally over. Eridan stood among the other cadets, holding his head as high as he could and barely holding back a grin of satisfaction. Despite his near giddiness with pride, he kept his face as stoic as those of the surrounding trolls. His black lips never twitched, eyes, still only baring flecks of his royal color, kept straight ahead. He didn’t dare to look at the towering figure sitting upon the throne, lest her eyes find him and see past every barrier he put up into every secret he still held. The only movement he allowed was the slightest instinctive prick of his fins as the resounding voice of his commanding officer rang out over the room. Training was over, wrigglerhood was over.

            Four sweeps ago, Eridan didn’t think he’d make it past day one. Though the drones showing up at his door was terrifying by its own right, it was nothing compared to stepping into the small, damp room, surrounded by towering lowerbloods who seemed to take great joy in making training a living hell.

            Standing a head shorter than most of the other cadets, he was forced to learn fast or die trying. Seadwellers were rarely present among the fleet cadets, most violets preferring to take on the honor of orphaning for the sake of the empire, as well as for their own glory. Though he’d done this for sweeps, Eridan knew that orphaning for the Empress rather than his morail would be far different and pose more danger to himself than he could reasonably see himself evading. It wasn’t a matter of cowardice, no matter the loudly voiced opinions of the other cadets, but rather survival. There were certain requirements he knew he couldn’t meet, things he doubted the training of a fleet soldier would test. After all, labeling himself as cullbait wasn’t too high on his to-do list.

            Three sweeps ago he’d gotten past basic training, standing among a class half the size of the one that came before it. He stood out still, from the glasses he couldn’t see without to the bright violet fins that portrayed emotion he could hide otherwise. Over time he gained more control, but a careful eye could still catch the occasional flare and twitch of the thin, colorful membranes.

            Two sweeps ago his group was passed to yet another camp, another round of training and a new commanding officer. This one seemed to have it out for the seadweller and by this point Eridan had tired of proving himself, earning quite a few new scars from snapping rather than holding his temper for the training arena.

            Now he stood before the Empress herself, the dozens of recruits now barely enough to fill the tiled square at the center of the throne room. Not that it mattered, with the hundreds of thousands of adults scattered among the stars. Large numbers wasn’t the purpose of the new group, only to preserve the army for generations to come.

            In his thoughts, Eridan’s eyes wandered up to the Empress’s throne. The stone was sleek and black, shimmering in the light of the moonbeams that filtered through a high window. Upon it sat the Condescension herself, easily twice or even three times Eridan’s size regardless of the horns. A mass of black curls fell down her shoulders, tumbling off the sides of the throne in a waterfall of obsidian. Tight clothing littered with gold and jewels highlighted every curve of the intimidating figure, though when his eyes, in their subconscious wandering, reached her face he froze, all concentration zooming again to keeping his eyes straight forward. Her eyes had met his, a blazing pink accompanied by a wolfish grin that displayed the sharp points of her fangs. His fins threatened to pin back, his instincts screaming at him to drop his head. He closed his eyes for a moment, curling his fists just enough to feel the prick of his claws against the rough skin of his palms. A cool breath filled his lungs and he waited a long moment before he let it slide back out through his fangs as his eyes opened again and took to their former occupation of staring straight ahead. His fists uncurled slightly, returning to their proper place at attention.

            The booming voice of his commanding officer rang out still, his speech having moved ever forward though Eridan couldn’t recall a thing he’d said. He chanced a look at him, if only to clear the haze that had settled before his eyes at the continued stare. He was tall, though nowhere near as tall as the Empress, his hair short and neat, though the rest of him was not. Muscle bulged over his entire figure, the grey skin marred by scars. His horns were chipped, one broken almost at the base while the other curled into a twister like silhouette. Worst of all was his face. His nose was squashed and crooked, a mass of scars covering most of the left side and leaving one eye and milky white orb that contrasted starkly with the deep indigo of his other iris. On first sight, he was terrifying, though with time Eridan had gotten used to the hoarse yelling and appearance. He was a soldier and injuries were bound to happen.

            It wasn’t long until the names began to be called. The Empress stood, a jeweled had resting on her hip as the other lightly held her trident, the shimmering surface glinting sharply. As the cadet stepped forward, the first a teal, she gave a few short comments on the performance of the troll, along with their assignment. For the teal, ground troops. The first in on any new exploration, the ones charged with discovering the threats and benefits of the new planet.

            As the names were called, Eridan found himself dreading his turn. Even more so as the Empress grimaced at a blueblood who stumbled and stuttered apologies until the bottom trident silenced him. What if he was next, four sweeps endured only to end as a violet smear at the foot of the throne? What if the medics had indeed found out his secret, only telling her rather than calling him out then and there? His chest felt tight, as though his ribs were closing in a beartrap on his lungs. His fins flicked against his control, his breath shallow between his teeth. Cramps seized his stomach, his muscles, and his mind was a blur of ‘what if’s. This steadily building panic came to a screeching halt when his own name pierced the air.

            “Eridan Ampora.”

            It sounded almost unfamiliar, coated in the thick accent and gravelly voice in a disguise and for a moment he didn’t recognize it as his own. His fins pricked of their own accord before once again trying desperately to pin back before the Empress he now had to approach. The click of his shiny new boots echoed across the stone. Had the other cadets been this loud? They had to have been, it wasn’t like he was stomping. Once he stood in front of her, barely coming to the middle of her thigh, he knelt respectfully, allowing his fins to fold back this once. A moment passed and he stood, meeting her eye as the others had. The color tore through him again, dragging him through the last time he’d seen it though it had not been as simple as meeting someone’s eye. He almost flinched, forcing back memories. He would revisit them one day, when revenge was to be taken but not yet. This was a means to an end.

            Her Imperial Condescension seemed to study him for a moment, perhaps questioning the motives of the only violet among the fleet cadets. Perhaps preparing to cull him for some unknown wrong, or something she knew of his past.

            “Ampora, hmm?” she mused, a smirk twitching her lips and flashing pearly white points at him. “Haven’t heard that name in awhale.” A black-clawed hand found its way to her hip again. “Accordin’ to your file, you’re not only one of the top in hand to hand combat, but you hold the top spot in your squad for sharpshooting.” She tapped the sharp tip of a claw against her cheek, seeming to think for a moment although Eridan was sure she’d chosen assignments before this began. Was she rethinking now that she saw him? Was he about to end up on ground crew, a blatant suicide mission, or maybe he’d be stuck on planet in some meager job that never saw anything beyond Alternia. A burst of salt and metal ran over his tongue and he realized his fangs were hooked on the inside of his lips. After a moment that in reality was only a second but felt like a sweep, she grinned.

            Eridan almost closed his eyes, tensing, and waiting for whatever job his runty ass had been sentenced to.

            “Ship captain in the exploration fleet.”

            There was silence, shock as Eridan felt his mouth fall open for half a second in pure surprise. He was quick to thank her, walking quickly to joined his already assigned squad mates. He could hear quiet muttering, discontent in his position as a captain but his ignored it. Finally, after all this life seemed to be going his way.

            When the ceremony ended, the Empress herself called the captains forward. There was only four among this group of cadets, Eridan, a blueblood who hid cunning plans behind a weak seeming demeanor, and two indigos who were among the most ruthless Eridan had seen. It seemed she was taking them to meet the fleet general, and to get their ship assignments.

            Eridan followed with a lighter feeling in his chest and a barely hidden grin. This was the first day of the rest of his life.


	2. A Break in the Mundane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is from the point of view of the Helmsman himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be trying to alternate between the characters for different chapters, but that might not be the case for every chapter.  
> Tags for this chapter are: blood and violence mentions, general pain related to being a Helmsman and slight disassociation   
> Thank you again to everyone reading this!

The ship was vast, every system working perfectly, independently, to keep it in order. With hundreds of cabins, a mess hall that could fit an army, and a dock for smaller ships. Every door was automatic, speakers, cameras, and holo-projectors in every room (though no cameras were allowed in the cabins for obvious reasons). Air and temperature regulation and every electronic device in the ship, as well as sonar, alarms, and the systems that kept the ship able to fly at all. All of these were connected to a central point, a central mind. Towards the front of the ship there was a dark room, consoles and screens set up along the walls. On the far side of the room, dark fuchsia tendrils pulsed and moved slightly, holding a figure in place. The only light in the room came from his eyes, a faint glow from behind his goggles. Occasionally, a colored spark would run up one of the horns jutting out of the troll’s hair, but it would be gone so fast anyone watching would have to question if they actually saw anything at all.

            For now, the figures eyes were closed, as they most often were these days. He preferred to spread out along the systems, the cameras his eyes and the speakers his ears. He _was_ the ship, not that broken looking stick of a body that he occasionally caught in the view of a lens. Or at least that’s what he told himself, what he wanted to be true. Being a troll hurt too much at this point and he wanted no part in it.

            As he almost lazily moved through the various systems, an alarm caught his attention, dragging him to the opening hull as the Empress arrived, accompanied by four young trolls. The image was a bit hazy, but the system didn’t recognize them. New recruits? It had been a long while since he’d seen new faces, but the break of the monotony only served to make him uncomfortable. For sweeps he’d known every face, name, and file on the ship. There was no way of knowing who these wrigglers were, nor what danger they could pose to the ship and crew. Though given that they were with the Condescension there was most likely not a reason to worry.

            Despite this, he decided to keep an eye on them. They made their way through the main hall, most likely to talk to one of the smaller ships captains about their assignments. Unless they were now working aboard this ship. As the group moved to the mess hall, where the crew was currently eating a meal. They approached the main fleet captain, who would give them their ship assignments.

            After watching the conversation for several minutes, he grew bored. Sure that they wouldn’t cause trouble with the Empress around, he allowed his mind to drift. The bits of his consciousness scattered throughout the ship, vaguely checking on the basic systems. With his mind, so scattered, there was no thoughts, no cognition. He was simply a machine, fulfilling his duties as though his mind was a simple program with no sentience whatsoever.

            That is, until a sharp pain tore through what was left in his physical body, dragging the bits of him back into the fleshy thing. A sharp hiss almost made it past his crooked fangs, and it would have if he had any strength left in the physical part of himself. Instead he slowly opened his eyes, his goggles mostly fogged with a bit of yellow around the lenses from the times he’d been pushed past his limit, which was very rarely. Before him stood the Empress, an unimpressed frown twitching on her lips. Behind her stood the young trolls from before, though only one seemed to show actual interest in him.

            “And your ship will have one of these, the recently recruited ones of course. The newer models have better obedience training, less likely to sass and rebel. This one used to have quite the mouth, but he stopped talking sweeps ago. Stopped doin anything really. Honestly I might hafta…retire him soon.”

            _I only stopped talking because I got sick of being your amusement_ , he thought, not having the strength to actually mutter the words. Not that it would have done him much good with the probably dreadful state of his vocal cords.

            He did manage a grimace, his lip curling up almost imperceptibly to reveal a fang. By that point the Empress had turned to speak to the others, so it didn’t seem that she caught his movement. But the other seadweller had, his eyes trying to meet his own through the goggles. Even from here he could catch the violet hue to his irises, which seemed to hold curiosity and something akin to…concern? Or perhaps familiarity? Neither made sense, so of course he must be mistaken.

            After a moment, the young seadweller looked at the Empress. He stood out quite a bit from the group, being at least a head shorter than the lowerbloods. He also seemed more nervous for some reason, but he didn’t think it was worth worrying about. His voice was almost too soft to hear, though his accent sounded familiar from what he could make out.

            “Is he losin powwer or somethin?” he asked, fins pricked for the answer as his eyes looked over the psion again.

            “Nah,” the Empress sighed. “He’s just gettin glubbin borin. Why, you want him?” She said, raising a brow. The offer seemed to take the violet off guard, as well as the helmsman himself.

            A hundred sweeps ago, she never would have given her prize up. Even now as she had begun losing interest in him, he always assumed she was too possessive than to hand him over to anyone else. Most likely she’d just kill him and replace him with something new.

            “I wwasn’t- I mean- “the violet stumbled on his words.

            She laughed a bit, grinning. “Whale if you change your mind he’s yours. …it’d probably be a good idea to put someone experienced in one of the newer ships. Might help prevent some…accidents.”

            She seemed to think about it, leading them out of the helm without another word.

            He didn’t know what to think. Surely, she’d only been joking. Right?

            The question was answered mere hours later, when a technician came in. With a few commands put into the main console, the Helmsman felt a faint numbing moving along his body from the points were the bioware met his nerves.

            A panic only lasted in his blood stream for a few moments before the numbness spread to his head, pressing him in darkness. The last thing he felt before he lost connection with consciousness completely, was the lowering of his body toward something like a gurney.

            It seemed today was the end of the life he knew, and the beginning of the rest of it.


	3. Getting Settled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be trying to update at least once a week, but if something gets in the way of that I'm sorry. Comments are always appreciated!  
> Tags for this chapter include:  
> Dehumanizing comments (Detrollizing?)

Eridan thanked whatever powers were at work that he was alone today, because if anyone had seen the way he gaped at the ship he could very well have died of embarrassment alone. It wasn’t the biggest ship in the fleet, but it was still impressive. The hull glinted in the harsh lights of the lot, bright pink paint displaying the Empress’s sign proudly on the metal surface.

He brought his palm to press against the hull, as if reminding himself that it was real. The shock was still somewhat fading and some part of him still expected the truth to come out and the rug to be yanked from under him to send him right into the culling cells. That thought alone was terrifying, but if the was as inevitable as it seemed then why shouldn’t he enjoy it while he could?

A deep breath filled his lungs, calming his racing heart as the palm this time pressed to a small panel beside the hull door. The sound of metallic clinking echoed along the inside of the panel and with a sharp hiss the door began to lower, hitting the ground with a resounding _thud_ that made him grin. He tried not to be too quick as he stepped into the ship, just in case someone was truly watching him. Though as soon as he door closed behind him this was thrown out the window and he allowed his fins to flutter giddily.

The room around him contained about a dozen exploration pods. Each was designed to hold two trolls max, sensors on the outer hull to determine everything from temperature to air composition. Arms ending in pincers folded neatly at the front, necessary for moving heavy objects or for use when the air was unbreathable. Rations were stored under the seats in case of a stranding, tracking and sonar panels blank now among the controls.

Eridan peered through the glass of the pods as he moved between them, running his fingertips over the cool metal. If the number of these was any indication on how big his crew would be, not even including cooks, technicians, and janitors, then perhaps he had more to be nervous about. However, now was not the time for a nervous breakdown. Now was the time to explore the ship he now had control of.

The pod bay had a larger door on one said through which the pods would leave and return, the door locked tightly for now. A smaller door sat against the back wall, a panel jutting out next to it. Before he could place his palm on it, the door opened of its own accord. He jumped slightly, looking through the opening and trying to ignore the fact that the yelp that escaped him sounded like a grub call. He stepped through and immediately took note of a mechanical whirring that made his fins prick up in interest. Violet flecked eyes found a security camera focusing toward him. Well it was nice know the security system worked, if a bit unnerving. Did this mean that the Helmsman was awake, or at least conscious enough to keep the ship running?

Eridan stepped down the long hallway, wide enough for two lines of trolls moving through with bright lights evenly spaced along the ceiling. Along the walls, there was a pair of doors every few panels. Occasionally he’d poke his head in one. Most of them were respite or absolution blocks, made for two trolls to share with a platform in each corner of the block. They were adults after all, having no need for recupracoons. A trunk and a desk sat next to each platform, all the furniture a sterile steel.

There was a dining hall, long tables stretched out next to each other. A window, which he assumed led to the kitchen, was cut into the wall at the far end. A few briefing blocks, a small informational library and a block covered in maps later he arrived at a block deep within the ship. The symbol of the empress was etched into the metal of the doors. They slid apart, the room behind them only being dimly lit by the sparks dancing off the troll’s horns and the glow from under his goggles.

The same aching familiarity squeezed his pusher and he still wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was his horns, the double set that he swore he’d seen in his youth. Maybe the colorful sparks that caught his eye every few seconds. It didn’t really matter though, did it? He was a Helmsman, a battery. Eridan wasn’t even sure he had a higher brain function any more.

Something in him wouldn’t let it go, and he leaned against the pain panel in the center of the room.

“Well this is interesting,” he mumbled, fangs worrying his lip and the inside of his cheek. “I didn’t think she was serious about this.”

A soft voice made him jump, the rasp seeming to drag over his skin and make him shiver uncomfortably. It sounded like his vocal cords had been used in sweeps, which he supposed was true.

“She rarely jokes about things like that.” There was a slight static quality to his voice, as though it was moving through a slow speaker.

Eridan stiffened, fins flaring. He’d never considered the fact that the other could speak, though one of the things the Empress had grievance with was the lack of speech.

“Well excuse me if I didn’t expect a thousand-sweep old pissblood to be plugged into my ship,” he shot back without thinking, arms crossing. He quickly flushed, realizing just how wriggler like he sounded and cursing internally.

The Helmsman was quiet for a moment, the pulsing light of his eyes darkening and Eridan could only assume he’d closed them. “And I didn’t quite expect to be placed in a wriggler ship,” he said quietly.

A brief flare of irritation made Eridan glare at him, but arguing with the ship wasn’t going to do anything but cause more trouble. “Are all the systems functional?”

There was a heavy pause before several holo-screens were brought up. It was evident they were working, but the Helmsman said nothing and Eridan couldn’t help but wonder why.

Without a word from either of them, he scrolled through the holo-screens and began to input the information he’d been given for the first mission. The crew was scheduled to arrive tomorrow, so hopefully they’d be leaving by dawn.

Eridan glanced at the Helmsman every so often, the silence unnerving him now that he knew the other could speak. After a few more minutes of it, he sighed and looked at the other.

Hopefully this conversation would go better than the first.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Another chapter from Psii's point of view. Thank you to everyone who commented so far and to everyone who's reading now!   
> Tags for this chapter are:  
> Blood, Disassociation, slight dehumanization and slight panic

The Helmsman resented this new ship, hating how small it was. After sweeps of being stretched beyond reasonable limits across the entirety of a commanding warship the confines of the exploration vessel seemed cramped. There was too little ship, too much of himself that was forced into his mind no matter how hard he tried to press it into the ship. His power filled every system to the brim, leaving his mind far too aware of the body around it. The centuries had left him unprepared for it. It was easy to pretend he was nothing more than the ship when he never had enough leftover consciousness to even be aware of his body aside from physical pain.

Now he could feel far too much and when he’d first woken panic had surged through his system more strongly than he could ever remember feeling. He could feel every bit of himself in ways he’d forgotten were possible, from the cool of the ship’s air against his skin to the way the bioware wrapped around his form. The way his bloodpusher pounded away in his chest had frightened him at first, the sound overbearing in the dark room. His goggles still obscured his vision but he kept his eyes tightly closed to avoid even more sensory overload.

When the alarm pinged that a door had opened, he grabbed the opportunity to shove himself into the camera system as much as he could. Focusing through the grainy lenses distracted him from the feelings if even for a moment. Pushing the discomfort still edging on sickening panic to the back of his mind as he focused on the intruder. A quick scan of his face revealed him to be the captain, the same troll who had asked about him back in the Empress’s ship. Fury lit in his chest, fierce and hot enough to rip him from the cameras and back into his pathetic body. Surprise cut it short as his eyes widened behind his goggles. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had enough of himself left in his own mind to draw up emotion that strong.

That was a lie. He could remember exactly when it had been, the last moments he could remember before he stopped being a troll. Before he became a system, a ship. Anger laced in bright red, as bright as the eyes he’d once given his everything to, as bright as hot irons that held and ripped away his reason for believing his future could hold anything different in the blink of an eye. A growl tore between fangs as the memory was forced to the cage he’d locked it in for centuries.

He refused to remember that, refused to even think of his life before the ship, focusing instead on the source of his current fury. The captain. The cameras overtook his vision once more, stray sparks dancing up his horns as he focused in on the young troll. If that little violet had kept his mouth shut, he wouldn’t be here. Not that he enjoyed his former position, but at least he could pretend there wasn’t a pathetic body housing his power, that there was only the ship and the systems and he would keep on going until some higher power finally granted him the release of death.

The rage began to fade as he took in his new captain’s appearance. Even without looking at his file it was obvious he was smaller than the average seadweller, or even the average blueblood. Despite the broad-shouldered cut of his uniform and the thick soles of his boots the petite figure seemed like the last troll to have made it through training. If he didn’t have the others files nestled into the information this ship held, he’d have wondered if his caste had been the sole reason he’d been given this position. Though according to them he was proficient in blades and guns, as well as hand to hand combat the Helmsman still had a difficult time picturing it.

The Helmsman found himself taken aback as he examined his face, blanching at how young he looked. His eyes were full of wonder and awe, his fins flicking and a grin plastering itself across his face as soon as he entered the empty ship. A stark contrast to the stoic curiosity he’d aboard the Empress’s vessel, he looked more like a wriggler in a sweet’s shop than an exploration fleet captain. A twinge of…something pinched at his pusher. Was it concern? Something in that vein, though deeper than a vague worry. He found himself wondering if the crew would take him seriously, or if a mutiny would be staged out among the stars.

What would become of him then? Would he die or would the Empress once again take that from him?

The part of him that still watched the captain saw as he reached for the panel of the hallway door, which opened before him. He could see the jump, the speakers catching the faintest of noises at its distance from the troll. Apprehension replaced the excitement as he stepped almost cautiously into the hall.

Of course, it wasn’t long before the doors opened to the young troll, who peered up at him with disturbingly curious eyes. It almost made him feel vulnerable, though he masked it with contempt as he conversed with the other. Talking felt foreign and awkward, his tongue moving against his fangs to form the raspy noise. It hurt his throat to talk and he swallowed against the discomfort, the image of a cold water glass popping briefly into his head.

There was a long bout of silence before he heard the captains voice again.

“Who are you anyw-way?”

The Helmsman noticed the quick stutter, and the way the boy’s nose scrunched up in distaste as his tongue betrayed him. The question caught him off guard, seemingly pointless as he rattled of the ships name and number before the other stopped him.

“That ain’t w-what I meant. W-what’s your name is w-what I’m askin’ I suppose. Callin’ you ‘Helmsman’ is a bit clunky.”

This time his silence was not of pain or disdain, but of the blank he was drawing. He’d had a name once, hadn’t he? Before he was the Helmsman, before even the Psiioniic. Something his friends had called him, something his lusus roared when he was in trouble. A name that had been replaced with a title at nine sweeps when he received his first assignment. Something he hadn’t again heard until he was speaking it to a troll in a dark gray cloak. Something that had rolled off his tongue with ease, that filled him with content whenever he heard it. He could see that bright red again, shimmering with moonlight and joy as the voice he would follow to the ends of Alternia spoke, forming the syllables that had almost been forgotten.

He felt the air leave him without realizing he’d spoken, his gut curling into painful knots as an unfamiliar heat blazed behind his eyes. Breaths turned to shallow almost gasps that hitched every now and again, eyes squeezing shut against the tightening of his chest and the awful heat that built in his goggles now as well.

Faintly, he heard the voice of his captain but he couldn’t focus enough to know what he’d said at all much less reply to it. The footsteps that followed were lost on him until the pressure of his goggles disappeared abruptly. His eyes flew open with a shower of spark as the heat now rolled down his cheeks.

“Hey! W-watch it!” came an indignant voice from almost directly in front of him and when the Helmsman opened his eyes for a moment all he saw was violet.

Somehow the other had climbed onto one of the panels to reach him, plucking the goggles from his face and curling his lip at the blood crusted around the edges. The violet flecked eyes met his own and the color made his breath catch for a moment. Without the colored lenses of the goggles obscuring his view, he could clearly see and appreciate the royal hue as it studied him. For the first time since his awakening he was glad to have enough of himself kept within his own head to see. He could see the violet of the streak in his hair all the way to the roots, it seemed to be natural. A mutation maybe? The slight twitches of the delicate membrane stretched between the tines of his fins and the blood that colored them. The darker grey freckles that dotted along his cheeks and nose that were slowly fading with age. Those achingly familiar horns, not yet bearing any damage of a soldier who’s been in battle. The scars that peeked from the edges of his uniform, though none had been left on his face yet. And of course, the way his eyes were brimming with a cocktail of emotions from concern and curiosity to familiarity and a deeper pain that never quite left no matter the situation. A frown twitched his lips as he realized the other could probably see something similar in his own gaze. For him it was understandable, but for this…child? Captain or not, he was young. He’d never seen a battle, aside from the mock ones in training, he was far too young. So, what had scarred him so deeply that it sat at the back of his mind and remained present in those too big too vulnerable eyes?

Sensation tore him from his thoughts again, this time a cool pressure of a hand wiping wetness that was too thin to be blood from his cheeks before they touched the raw flesh where his goggles had been minutes before. A soft his escaped him and he could hear a disapproving click of the others tongue.

“Honestly, you’d think she’d take better care of her things,” was muttered as the violet eyes narrowed. “First order of business is new goggles that actually fuckin fit and…probably some medical attention. Put in an order for a pair of goggles, I don’t really care which ones, and make sure they get here tomorrow.”

Hopping off the panel with a disgruntled expression, he set the goggles on the surface and grimaced at the yellow blood and tears on his fingertips before looking up at him.

“The goggles there are fine. I don’t see why new ones would be necessary.” Speech was still difficult for him, but curiosity won out. He realized a moment too late that perhaps questioning his captain wasn’t the smartest move but the other didn’t seem perturbed by it at all.

“Considerin’ you’re the one keepin’ the ship in the air and keepin’ us alive, I figure a bit of care could go a long way. Especially towards keepin’ the ship and crew in one piece.” The violet shrugged, but the Helmsman could sense something beyond that. A sense of duty? Perhaps. There was a new part to his gaze that looked to be a mix of nostalgia and guilt he got the distinct sense wasn’t directed toward him.

There was a long silence before the elder troll spoke, the words small and muffled in the space between them.

The captain’s fins perked and he returned his gaze to the troll held above him. “What was that?”

The Helmsman took a deep breath and looked to his captain, memory heavy on his tongue as he spoke.

“My name is Mituna.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems a little all over the place, I'm trying to set some things up for the story. Thank you to everyone who has commented or left kudos, it's very much appreciated.

Eridan closed the door to his quarters behind him, slumping against the metal as he let the tension drain from his frame. Claws raked through his hair, pulling it from the carefully styled position and letting the violet streak flop onto his forehead. The colorful strands brushed against his glasses annoyingly, so he tucked the irritating locks behind a fin.

Colors flashed behind closed lids as he let himself breathe for a moment, mostly the bright red and blue of eyes unhindered by goggles for the first time in sweeps. The same color sparking through the air in excess as unnecessary power dispersed across the dual horns. The same sparks that burned through the careful locks he’d put on his past, flooding him with memories.

He was sinking to the ground before he could stop himself, the heels of his hands pressing over his eyes and shoving his glasses roughly to the top of his head. Twelve sweeps of memories raked past him, clawing at the bits of control he had over himself. Rage stirred in his chest, pointing fingers at the troll strung up a few hallways over for the reminders. Red and blue had once been common in his sight, bright eyes and sparks and heated words marred by speech problems neither party could control but both still managed to mock incessantly. That had been sweeps ago but the lisp-addled words still lingered in the back of Eridan’s mind and weighed on the guilt already constant in his stomach.

Forcing himself to his feet, Eridan shuffled to the cot cut into the far wall, neatly folded his uniform, and set it on his desk before climbing beneath the thin comforter. The cool air, made colder by the surrounding metal, left his fins fluttering slightly even as he pulled the material around him and wished he had a heated coon. Alas, he was an adult and a soldier, both of which were expected to sleep without the aid of slime. The mind-numbing affects would have been welcome tonight, as the moment he drifted he was plagued by familiar voices and flashes of memory.

_“Come on, whale be fine.”_

_“Should we really trust him to go with her?”_

_“If anything happenth to her, it’th on your head.”_

_“They should be here by now…”_

_“Wwe should go home, come on.”_

_“Did you hear that?”_

_“Shit! Wwe need to run!”_

_“Erifin?”_

_“Eridan!”_

_“ERIDAN!”_

He shot upright, a hollow crash resounding as his horns met the metal roof of his cot. Gripping his head, he fell back on the pillow with a throb settling painfully in the base of his horns. Curses slipped between his fangs, though he was glad for the pain. It made it easier to focus on something other than his daymares.

Fumbling for his glasses on his cotside table, he shoved them on his face and shoved himself from the blankets. It was far too early but there was no way in the Furthest Ring he was going back to sleep now, so he dug in the things that had been brought before he’d arrived for a new uniform. Flinging open the lid on his trunk, each soldier was allowed to take what they could fit in one to travel, he frowned as a small, leather bag tumbled out. He picked it up, the familiar sound of metal clinking together somewhat comforting. He’d forgotten he’d packed it, that it had spent four sweeps getting tossed around with his things and never opened.

The ends of the string holding the bag closed were frayed, the knot tight enough to force him to use his claws as he picked it open. Nestled inside the soft leather were several rings he’d worn in his youth and a thin gold chain. Eridan hooked a claw on the chain and carefully pulled it out, untangling it as he did so, his eyes softening as the pendant was freed from the confines of the bag. Unlike the flashy, gemmed rings that still sat inside, this pendant was a worn clam shell. It was coated in a shiny sealant and held closed by a gold clasp that matched the chain in both color and delicate fragility.

A sharp pain tightened on his pusher with every beat, but he didn’t dare open the locket. Instead he slipped the chain around his throat and dropped the pendant under his shirt, buttoning his uniform jacket over it. The familiar weight against his sternum calmed him as much as it hurt his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it off.

Only a few more moments were allowed for nostalgia before he stood and closed his trunk once more. The ship was supposed to be stocked already, the kitchens full and the weapons inventory accounted for, so Eridan put aside his memories and strode to the large kitchen to find coffee. The search for the ground beans took longer than he’d expected, the cabinets well organized but not labelled. He could only hope the cooks memorized the places quickly, or perhaps labelled it themselves. Finally, he got his hands on a bag and found a coffee machine to brew it. While he waited for the liquid to fill the pot he leaned against the cabinet and tapped his claws rhythmically against the metal surfaces. Luckily it didn’t take long and soon the click of his boots was once again ringing through the halls as he sipped from a steaming mug.

The emptiness of the ship left a sense of unease swirling in his stomach, though he grimaced at the thought of the other troll on the ship. It was odd to picture the Helmsman, Mituna, or to recall his raspy voice. He’d met helmsmen before, though none of them spoke. At least, not through their physical bodies. Anything they’d wished to convey was projected as black text, or a computerized voice played it through a speaker with no emotion. There was no personality, none of the troll that had once been left. Maybe that’s why it was easier to think of them as batteries, with the troll gone and leaving only enough sentience to follow orders. It still made him sick to think about, imagining a much younger version of Mituna being stripped of every bit of snark and sass that made him who he was and hooked up to a ship he’d be powering until his body gave out, long after his mind would have.

He shook the thoughts from his head, taking a scalding gulp of coffee and continuing his walk through the halls of the ship. It wouldn’t do him any good to feel fear or guilt for people he’d abandoned, trolls he’d probably never see again. The sweeps had made him good at bottling it up, so the practice continued.

The weapon holds were vast, the walls lined with everything a troll could imagine fighting with. His mind briefly flitted back to the blue rifle that rested against his trunk as he ran his fingers lightly over a similarly sized rifle on the wall. He doubted it’s power could match that of the Crosshair’s though. A smirk flicked his lips at the memory of his commander’s disbelief that the petite eight sweep old could even hold the weapon, much less fire it accurately. He’d clawed his way past the low expectations and proved himself time and again, though he knew once the crew got here he’d be doing the same thing again.

Ducking back into the kitchen to refill his cup, he begrudgingly stepped into the helmsblock, knowing he should double check everything before the crew arrived. The yellow blooded troll was slumped in the bioware, the sparks flickering from his horns the only sign of life Eridan could distinguish.

Electing to leave the troll be for now, Eridan opened the holoscreen and began flicking through the systems. It seemed everything was in working order, the inventory counted by two of the delivery trolls and set for a final count once the crew boarded, which was in approximately two hours. As he turned his attention to the list of his crew members, a movement caught his attention and he turned to meet the Helmsman’s gaze.

“Ev-venin,” he said after a moment of unnerving silence, pausing his reading for the time being.

He received a simple nod in response, but it was better than the almost lifeless state he’d looked like before. A tap to the side of the screen flickered the light out as he moved to stand in front of the other.

“W-wh- “he paused for a moment to take a breath and let the tension escape him with it. It wouldn’t do him any good to stutter like this in front of the crew, not if he wanted an ounce of respect out of them.

“When the crew arrives, direct them to the mess hall. It’ll be the easiest place to gather them all. The systems all seem to be in working order, but is there anything I should know?”

He met the Helmsman’s eyes for a moment, turning his head and walking back to the screen from before as he listened for an answer.

“Thith ith a newer ship,” came the hoarse reply, though Eridan could hear slight improvements everytime the troll spoke. “Tho the technology ith new and working fine. Inventory theemth to be accounted for, and the crew will be arriving shortly, Captain Ampora.”

The voice seemed dull and tired, leaving Eridan wondering about the sass the Empress had mentioned. Last night had seemed alright, with more emotion than Eridan had expected but now he couldn’t help but wonder if it was disappearing again or if the other was simply getting better at managing it on a smaller ship.

He said nothing for now, placing each question at the back of his mind for if it became more urgent to know, and asked about the files he had yet to read, the mission details for the first voyage, and anything else to do with the ship that could fill the void left by silence between the trolls.

A brief alarm made Eridan jump as the door in the hull opened, he could hear the metal screeching even from here. The crew had arrived. Swallowing around his nerves, he gave a few quick orders before darting to the mess hall. The voice that echoed through the halls wasn’t the one he’d grown familiar with, but one produced by the systems. It was monotone, relaying orders on where to meet and directions to get there until the crew had seated itself in the chairs lined beside the long tables.

Cold looks and low mutters settled cold and hard within Eridan’s chest, though he kept his face neutral as he looked over the crew. The introduction was short, the job assignments already given and the mission files being touched on as everyone had been provided with a copy.

As he dismissed the crowd to get settled in, a few challenging glares added a twinge of fear to his nerves. What could he do if one of them grabbed at the power he held, besides kill them? And that action in itself would throw the crew off balance, especially friends of the would be usurper.

He held their gaze, eyes, narrowed and ice cold despite the screaming panic building within him.

Once they were gone, he stepped into the helmsblock again. The others seemed to avoid this area, even the technicians, but Eridan found himself happy for that. The place was quiet, the bright eyes closed for the most part and leaving him to ground himself.

He ran a hand through his hair, though was careful not to mess it up this time. This was going to be a long mission.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter contains slight body horror, given that Tuna is a Helmsman. But this should be the only time it comes up. Also there's some medical stuff, but nothing too graphic. Thank you to everyone who's commented and left kudos! You're all amazing!

Mituna wasn’t sure how he felt about the crew. The captain seemed to be holding his own against the unhappy ones, glaring them down, but he couldn’t be sure they weren’t planning something. Noting the faces and files of the possible troublemakers, he resolved to keep an eye on them. Or, well, a camera.

He almost missed the captain entering the helmsblock again, looking far too tired for a troll that young. There were shadows under his eyes, their color dull at the moment. His fins seemed sluggish as well, folded halfway and only flaring when he yawned. For a moment, he didn’t seem like a captain to the Helmsman, but rather a young troll with far too much on his shoulders.

While he was here though, Mituna kept track of the other trolls aboard. They seemed to be attending to their jobs, though a small olive was quickly making her way down the hall toward the helmsblock. She moved quickly, carrying a bag in her hands.

The psion tensed, informing the captain of her approach in a calmer voice than he thought possible. Perhaps he was getting better at controlling these emotions he hadn’t felt in sweeps. The violet straightened, his tired face hardening into the cold mask he’d worn earlier as well. Mituna couldn’t help but wonder if he’d slept at all the day before.

Soft footsteps rang outside the door, which slid open to reveal the olive from before. This close he could see the badge on her uniform declaring her a medic. She had long, blunt horns and hair pulled into a long braid. “Captain Ampora? I was told that you needed to see me?”

Eridan looked her over before nodding, straightening his back. He stood only an inch taller than her, but that seemed to be enough for him. “That’s right, Medic Nikola. I’d like you to take a look at the Helmsman. We can’t expect the ship to run properly if its power isn’t kept in top shape.”

She glanced up, her curious eyes meeting Mituna’s own for a moment before she nodded at the violet. “Of course, Captain.”

With a final look to the yellowblood, Eridan walked to the door. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Mituna was almost surprised at how well he hid the stutter that had been so prevalent when they were alone. He swept out of the block, probably going to check on the crew once more.

A small thud brought his attention back to the girl in front of him, who had set a case on the nearest panel. The medical supplies in it made him grimace, though she only chuckled at his expression.

“Hush now, it’s not that bad. I won’t be takin blood or anything, ‘nless something seems wrong.” Like the captain, she climbed onto the panel to reach him and he made a mental note to either find a suitable step ladder from inventory or inquire about ordering one.

Thoughts moving to the systems to keep from focusing on the medic, he checked over the cameras. Though he couldn’t properly hear them, the scowls on a few of the highbloods had him worrying about a mutiny again. Despite the irritation with his new position, he didn’t mind the captain. Unlike the others aboard the ship, who seemed eager to get into battle, Eridan reminded him more of a soldier who’d been through a real one before. He couldn’t help but wonder what he possibly could have gone through to have that pain already.

A cold sting forced a hiss from him, though when he wrenched himself back to his body to look at the medic she seemed unaffected by the noise and the sparks that lit his horns. “Hush,” she said again, looking sternly at him in a way that reminded him of a certain jade centuries before. “I know it stings but I also know that you’re an adult and you can handle it.” With that she continued to dab at the wounds around his eyes with a cleansing pad.

“I thuppothe I’ve had worthe,” he muttered, only flinching slightly now. She seemed surprised to hear him speak, like most trolls, but unlike most her ears pressed against her head at his words.

“…I suppose you have. Do your ports cause you any pain?” She glanced at the metal holes along his arms, peeking around to the ones down his spine.

“Not anymore,” he shrugged. “Or I’m uthed to it tho I don’t notithe it.”

A frown creased her face, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Well… that might be the best we can ask for. I have to say, I was surprised when Captain Ampora gave me this assignment. I’ve never really seen anyone put effort into the Helmsmen, which always struck me as odd. You’d think they’d be nicer to the trolls powering their vessels after all.”

Mituna almost didn’t recognize the half wheezing sound coming from his chest, or the warmth that came with it. It had been dozens of sweeps since he’d laughed, the sensation unfamiliar but at the same time welcome. “You’d think that, but we’re more replaceable than you realize.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So am I. Olive bloods are a dime a dozen. I’m lucky to even make it on a violet’s ship as a midblood. But that’s not the point. The point is I’m happy to have a captain who gives two fucks.”

There was a long silence as she worked, putting creams on his wounds and around his ports. “I am too,” he said quietly, almost afraid that if he admitted it it’d be stripped from him like all the other happiness he’d once had.

At his words, she grinned widely. “I should hope you’d be happy to get a little kindness. I’ll admit when I found out the captain was the Orphaner’s descendant I got a little worried, but he seems like a decent troll.”

“What troll wouldn’t be? I’m jutht not…uthed to it. And I’m not even really thure why I’m being shown thith kindneth anyway.”

“Well we’re all trolls here. Besides even considerin the spectrum you’re only what, a level down from me? Anyway, Mr. Helmsman, I think I’ve got you as patched up as I can for now, though I’m a little worried at the fact that I can practically see your bones. I might set up a nutrient I.V. if the Captain lets me. I mean I know you don’t technically need to eat and all that, but having a few vitamins couldn’t hurt.”

He couldn’t help laughing again. “You don’t need to refer to me ath mithter. Jutht Helmthman.”

She huffed a little. “Fine fine. But if we’re gonna be like that, just call me Aphina. Now I’ll talk to the Captain about all this and see if we can’t get you something set up before we take off. Sound good?”

Mituna almost argued, but the idea of feeling a little less weak and pathetic was too appealing to do more than nod as she packed up. Aphina was less stiff leaving the helmsblock than she’d been coming in, and the Helmsman was grateful to find a kind soul among the crew.

Speaking of the crew, he found himself looking over them again. A group of three highbloods, two purples and a navy, worried him most. They were irritated, complaining about something and the way their fangs were bared sent a shard of ice through him. He’d mention it to the Captain when he saw him next.

The violet was nowhere to be found at the moment, probably in his respiteblock getting some sleep. Or simply taking a moment to himself after the ruckus of a new crew aboard.

Aphina’s words crossed his mind, “The descendant of the Orphaner.” He could see the resemblance, though his memory was too vague to compare their personalities. He did wonder what made the other choose the life of a soldier rather than following the footsteps of his ancestor however. These thoughts entertained him for the next few hours until the Captain emerged.

True to her word, Aphina spoke to him soon after. She left grinning and he didn’t miss the smile that twitched Eridan’s lips when she took off down the hall. He seemed relieved at her eagerness, though he didn’t return to the Helmsblock for the rest of the night to look at the progress. By the time the ship was scheduled to leave, Aphina had managed to find what she needed to hook up. The needle made him flinch, but he could feel the effects of the nutrients within hours.

When he finally stepped into the block, Eridan seemed pleased. He had a pair of goggles in hand, which had padding around the eyes that would hopefully prevent anymore wounds. Placing them on the Helmsman, the Captain looked a little calmer than before. “Begin the countdown.”

A monotone voice rang out, ordering everyone to position and beginning the countdown. As the systems booted up, Mituna was surprised by the lack of strain on his mind and reminded himself that it was a smaller ship after all. The numbers grew smaller as the landing gear began to retract and psionic energy crackled through the engine.

_10_

_9_

_8_

The Captain watched as the systems worked, a holopad keeping him informed on the state of each of them. Violet eyes briefly met the goggled ones, the latter breaking contact to focus on the task at hand. Leaving the planet was the hardest part.

_7_

_6_

_5_

The crew had strapped themselves in for takeoff, securing their belongings so nothing flew off as the ship ripped itself from the atomosphere.

_4_

_3_

_2_

_1_

A final look was shared between the Helmsman and the Captain, this time with a sharp toothed grin flashing between them. Mituna felt powerful, a welcome change from the barely managing excuse for a troll he’d been on the Empresses ship. If he had to be a battery, he could get used to being one for this ship, for this Captain, for this crew.

_0_

A burst of power surged the ship into the air, rushing towards the stars. Whether it was the ships size or the extra energy that caused it, the Helmsman could barely feel the atmosphere’s grasp as the ship burst from it, shooting out among the stars.

Now if the mission could go as smoothly as takeoff, they’d be set.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry this took so long. I got kind of stuck on this work, knowing where I want to go with it but not sure how to go about getting there. So have this longer chapter as an apology.  
> I'm not entirely confident in my ability to write fight scenes, but this chapter has a pretty big one, just a warning.  
> That being said, I hope you all enjoy it!

“Captain Ampora.” A navy soldier stiffened as the violet drew near, her hands clasping behind her back and her ears lowering respectfully. Her horns curled back, staying firmly next to her skull and almost perfectly framing her ears. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, goggles pushed up just in front of her horns, leaving light blue rings around her eyes that reminded Eridan a little too much of the rings sliced into the flesh of his helmsman.

Eridan lifted a hand, sighing internally as he waved off the formality. If the crew members weren’t being just short of openly hostile, they were tiptoeing around him with fear permeating the air to an almost nauseating level. He supposed it all had to do with whether they gave more importance to him being a seadweller, or a highblood. “At ease. Are the teams equipped and in position?”

She was quick to nod, her hands coming to her sides and her ears perking slightly, though the cautious tension never left her eyes. She was an arms tech, in charge of the upkeep and distribution of the different weapons, a clipboard in hand covered in little notes and checkmarks. “Yes. They’ve all been equipped with their designated weapons, as well as a handheld firearm and combat knife, if they were not already in possession of one. I am not aware if-” she paused and held two fingers to the device currently hooked onto her ear, furrowing her eyebrows as she listened intently for a few moments. When she looked back up, her ears fell a little. “My apologies for the interruption, Captain Ampora. That was the head technician. The scout bots are in place and ready for launch.” Her eyes lowered, her shoulders tensing as she apologized, Eridan’s irritation growing as well. Had his younger self been on board, he’d have relished the lower bloods practically falling to his feet, and the hostile ones wouldn’t have lasted a day, but he wasn’t that wriggler anymore. If there was any hope of surviving this planet he needed them to listen to him, not out of fear but trusting he’d lead them to victory. The Empress might do just fine leading like that, but she wasn’t the one landing on possibly hostile planets to risk being killed by inhabitants they knew nothing about, now was she?

“It’s fine. Have the scouts sent out once we’re within the atmosphere.” She nodded quickly and practically sprinted down the hall, leaving Eridan once again rolling his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair once he was alone, tapping the metal wrapped around his forearm twice to bring up the holopad, swiping through the layers until he came to the map. A small blip blinked at him, moving slowly against the dark background as the planet came into view. A camera at the front of the ship saved him from having to find a window, displaying the cold gray clod before him. There was almost no color to the lump aside from the almost black of the purple shadows cast by mountain ranges and the streaks of blue that barely differed from the gray. From what the original scans had told them it was covered in mountain ranges and bogs, though there were no major bodies of water they could see. The sensors that had yet to be launched would do a more thorough check, testing the breathability of the air, and scanning for the possibility of intelligent life.

If they came back successful, the soldiers would descend for manual exploration. The sonar in their wrist cuffs would map the ground as they walked, any major landmarks or resource reserves given temporary names until the Empress ultimately decided what they would be called. As for the possible life? If willing to comply or non-intelligent they would be left alone, by the 0-+exploration fleet at least. If hostile…well, they had weapons for a reason.

Eridan walked quickly to his room, turning the scan of the planet to mark areas he wanted the sensors to pay close attention to. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, after all this was the first planet he’d been to aside from Alternia and there was a perfectly good chance he’d die as soon as he set foot on the ground.

There was a soft rock beneath his feet as the ship came to a stop just inside the top layer of the planet’s atmosphere.

“Captain,” a static voice crackled in his ear, a hand shooting up to fiddle with the frequency.

“Yes?”

“We’ve arrived and the sensors are currently being deployed. Would you like me to keep you up to date on the readings or would you rather have the final analysis.”

Eridan put a hand over his eyes, steeling himself as he stood and slung the Crosshairs across his back. He hoped the smaller rifle that sat in his hands would be enough, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “Just the final analysis. I just need to know if we can actually go down there.”

There was no response, but Eridan had gotten used to that very quickly when talking to Mituna. His voice had grown steadier as he used it more, though it often held a mechanical quality that worried Eridan slightly. Perhaps the personality he’d begun to show wasn’t enough to keep him from slipping away to nothing but power. He gave a soft sigh before begrudgingly returning to the ship dock.  The groups were talking amongst themselves, pairing off to stand beside their crafts.

Heads rose as he entered the room, a few pairs of eyes narrowing at him but he held himself with all the commanding air he could muster as he silently wished he was more like his ancestor instead of trying to wrestle respect for himself. His fins flicked as he approached the group that would be in the frontlines, the group that he’d be with. There were five others, their voices dying down as he approached, eyes watching him warily. An indigo tilted their head, their face painted in a way that left a circle on each cheek and a stripe running straight down from each corner of their mouth to their chin, somewhat in the semblance of a doll. Their horns were crooked, uneven and split at the top to flattened ‘x’s, sticking out of their ringlets of hair. Beside them stood a teal, his horns bent slightly inwards and his hair cropped short, his wiry form leaning against the more solid build of a blueblood with horns lined with little spikes and a braid draped over his shoulder. Another indigo and a navy stood away from the others, muttering to each other. The indigo glanced at him through narrowed eyes, the angles of their paint sharp and jaggedly outlining their mouth and eyes. Their horns were thick, curling slightly back from thick and wild hair, while their…friend looked over a pair of thin glasses. Her horns were short and sharp, her hair half shaved and the longer part left to curl in almost a bob that framed her face.

Eridan flared his fins slightly at the glare, his lip curling up to bare sharp teeth until the other’s ears lowered. He looked to his wrist, watching them sensors through their cameras as they swooped over the land. Like they’d thought, there were no major bodies of water to be seen, though the ground at the lowest elevation seemed covered with blue-gray plants with wide leaves and thick, hollow stems that almost made it look like a mouth. Static crackled in his ear again, his fin perking as the voice broke through it. “Atmosphere analysis complete. Mostly comprised of hydrogen and oxygen atoms, the majority of which have formed molecules and are numerous enough to render the air unbreathable for those without gills.”

There was a long pause before Eridan cursed, mostly under his breath. “So, the atmosphere is pretty much water?”

“More accurately, the water vapor in the air is too prominent to allow for enough free oxygen. I’d recommend using the rebreathers underneath the seats of the pods.”

“What other elements are present?”

“Nitrogen, chlorine and one unknown one are the most prominent.”

Eridan gave a small nod, mostly to himself, before sighing again. “Alright. Bring the sensors back to base and-” He cut off as red flashed across one of the cameras. He enlarged it, frowning as the vegetation in front of the flashing sensor trembled. “Mi- ahem, Helmsman, move the sensor closer. There’s signs of a possible life form.”

The area grew closer, but before the sensor could move more than a foot the leaves parted and Eridan only had a moments glance at gray skin and layers of fangs before the signal cut out. There was a silent moment before Eridan frowned. He turned to the other trolls, his voice firm despite the apprehension that had settle deep in his gut. “Everyone equip your rebreathers and at no point until we come back to the ship are you to take them off. If you do, I will _not_ be stopping to drag your body back onto the ship. If you take a look at your screens you’ll be updated on why this is necessary, because I know all of you can read at least basic level shit. If you can’t,” he glanced around the room, “it’s not my problem. I realize that for most of you, this is your first-time off planet but I will not tolerate being slow for the sake of sightseeing. Make note of places that could be useful and mark spots with these,” he flipped a coinlike violet chip, catching it in midair and dropping it back into its place in one of the smaller containers on his belt, “So the sensors will know what to sample. From what we know currently there is life, but it is not friendly. If for some bizarre reason you’re feeling more diplomatic, warning shots are allowed, but don’t be stupid. If you die because you tried to make friends with an alien, I’m leaving you here, if you die in battle, you can trust the Empress will be aware of your sacrifice. But, none of you are going to die, because you’re not going to be wrigglers about this. You’re trolls and I expect you to act like it. Is that understood?”

This might be the longest speech he’d given them, aside from their introduction, and for a moment only mumbling reaching him. He swallowed, his stomach sinking as he tried to fight the notion that the lack of a proper answer was from disrespect. They had to respect him, he wouldn’t lose control of his own ship on the first mission. He let another moment pass before curling his lip and letting his fins flare, barking at them as forcefully as he could muster, “I said _IS THAT UNDERSTOOD_?”

He saw the majority of them stiffen, eyes widening slightly. “YES, CAPTAIN AMPORA!” rang out around him, the loudest even standing at attention. The quietest came from behind him, where the pair was still leaning against the wall, reminding him why exactly he’d assigned them to his group.

“Better,” he growled, not letting his intensity falter even for a moment. He couldn’t afford that. “You have ten minutes. Get ready.”

There was a moment of almost confusion as the soldiers looked at each other, Eridan letting out an exasperated sigh. “What are you waiting for? GO!” He swept out of the hull as it bustled to life behind him, slipping into the nearest bathroom to let himself relax even for a moment. It had been almost a perigee and he still got the feeling most of them weren’t taking him seriously. Not that he blamed them, no one had taken him seriously before this, not even- but he didn’t have time for the train wreck of thought, he _needed_ them to take him seriously and be able to expect him to actually listen to him. He pressed his head into his hands for a minute, taking a deep breath and straightening to look in the mirror, after all he’d had a reason to come in here aside from self-pity. Unfastening the top of his uniform, he rolled the high collar down to bare the bright violet frills of his gills. He ignored the tattered edges and the scars that lined either side, running his finger lightly across one of the fragile, flaring gills and sighing before he pulled out a couple of waterproof wound healing squares and sealed them carefully over the slits. After making sure they were firmly in place, he refastened his collar and made certain that no one could see the edges of the seals before forcing himself to take a deep breath and walk back into the hull. Most of them were standing stiffly next to their crafts, their helmets on and rebreathers attached.

“Everyone in your pods, Helmsman start a minute’s countdown and open landing bay doors.”

“Yes, Captain,” rang in his ears again, quicker this time as they climbed into their ships. He pressed a button on the collar of his uniform, his helmet rapidly building itself off of the armor and contouring tightly to his head and the shape of his horns as a screen slipped over his face. While no one was too focused on him, he clicked a rebreather into place where it was open to allow air in, ignoring the anxiety that was curling in him.

The troll that shared his pod turned out to be the puppet-like indigo, their hands deftly moving to start the ship. Eridan flicked his side’s controls to life, watching the lights blinking in front of him as the countdown showed on the centermost screen. He gave the other troll a quick look, though they seemed focused on their work. That was a good thing, right?

He was happy for the helmet hiding his face as he chewed his lip, feeling Ahab’s Crosshairs pressing uncomfortably against his back and hoping once again that the powerful weapon wouldn’t be necessary. Especially if they were fighting in close quarters, where his crew could be caught in the blast.

The numbers flicked down, the wide doors sliding open as they sank from two digits to one, the zero pulsing in front of him sooner than he would have liked. He pressed the launch button, settling his hands against the steering screen as they lifted into the air.

The planet was so much bigger in person, looming in front of him threateningly with jagged edges and unknown creatures. He paused as the other ships formed a proper formation behind him, glancing back at them before beginning his descent. The closer they grew to the surface, the more nervous he became, though he did his best to focus on finding somewhere to land. The rocky clearing seemed almost too convenient but he let the pods land anyway, shifting his gun into his hands and climbing out of the craft.

“You have your assignments,” he clipped out, watching them assemble. “Remember to stay with your groups, if you get lost I’m not coming back for you. And for the love of the Horrorterrors use your fucking communicators. I’m not your grubsitter.” He gave them a sharp nod. “Move out.”

The groups converged in front of him, splitting off to their separate assignments. Plant-life, landforms, resources and so on, though his own group was mostly focused on discovering the more sentient parts of this planets inhabitants. Eridan glanced around at the group, checking over his rifle one final time. The indigo he’d been riding with was twirling a pair of…what might have been clubs at one point with pieces attached that made them look more like what a puppet might be controlled with, complete with almost invisible string stretched between them. The other indigo held a much simpler pair of juggling clubs, though Eridan watched enough training sessions to know about the knives hidden in the handles. Their navy companion flipped a few daggers in her hand, almost juggling them as she looked calmly over the planet. The teal beside her had decided to perch on the shoulder of the taller blueblood instead of leaning against him, a pair of sickles hanging from his belt that made Eridan’s stomach churn uncomfortably. The blueblood seemed resigned to his situation at this point, or perhaps they were closer than he’d previously thought. It wasn’t uncommon for quadrantmates to request to be assigned together, though based on what he’d seen so far, he’d guess morails before anything else. He glanced up with a smirk and an eyeroll as the teal rest an elbow against one of his horns, almost confirming Eridan’s suspicions, though at least he could probably trust them from letting each other do anything stupid. For a moment, he thought the blue had no weapon equipped, until he saw the bow slung over his shoulder. The brief image of a shattered bow only made him feel sick, his brow furrowing as he gestured for them to follow him, flicking his visor to detect heat around him. The thick air was a bit uncomfortable to move through, almost akin to the feeling of moving underwater, but it wasn’t enough to pose a real problem.

The trek was quiet, the crew flicking out violet coins to the different plant species they found, in case they were unique to that location, as well as anything that looked interesting. A flash of red across his vision made him pause, following it carefully until he saw the creature twisting through the air. It was almost eellike in shape, long and limbless with a bony and tooth filled skull. It paused, body long enough to loop around itself as it inspected the group. It dipped closer to Eridan, its jaw dropping open enough to let out an almost curious sounding screech, and letting Eridan see the layers of thin fin like projections covering its skin, aside from its head, almost like fur. The fins were clear aside from white bioluminescence emanating from the edges and combining with the white-gold of the body underneath, though the light disappeared as something much larger darted through the brush nearby. All of the projections flattened against it as it darted away, leaving Eridan with the feeling that something was very wrong.

He tightened his hands on his gun, shoulders squaring as he took a slow step toward the plants. There was another sound, but as the group fell into position behind him he heard something shifting just slightly in the foliage behind them all. His fins pricked as a stick snapped, his eyes widening. _This was a trap_.

His gun was to his shoulder in less than a second as he whipped around just in time to see something much bigger than he was launching itself at the group. The two shots he fired bounced off the armored plating covering the creature as sharp teeth ripped into his own armor. The chaos around him told him the other creature had made itself known, though his top priority now was getting this thing off of him. Its jaw was clamped onto his shoulder, immobilizing one arm, and forcing him to drop his gun. He couldn’t see much aside from the hard gray skin and a narrow eye set into the protective covering. His vision was quickly going fuzzy from blood loss, the violet staining his uniform and dripping to the ground in a surprisingly large amount. In a moment he raised a hand, digging his claws into the exposed eye and earning a pained shriek as the creature dropped him. There was no time to recover as he swung the Crosshair’s off his back and hissed, pressing it against his injured shoulder to aim into the open maw before it could bite back down. He saw several layers of teeth, the last row almost in its throat, and blue/black flesh beneath them. There were teeth missing from the front row, which was mostly splattered with violet, and he had a bad feeling those were embedded in his shoulder, though he didn’t have the time to look right now. A bright light flared at the tip of his gun, the beam quickly shooting into the creature’s mouth. Its jaw slammed closed a moment too late, pale blue blood quickly spurting from the lines between its armored plates as it crumpled in on itself.

Eridan spun to see the second creature circling his group, though its eyes darted to him as its companion fell and he could almost feel the rage emanating from it. At least he could finally see what their assailants looked like. It was about the size of a juvenile lusus, though still about twice as large as any of the trolls in his crew, with a torpedo-shaped head and armored plates lining almost every bit of exposed skin. Six thin, multijointed legs sprouted from small holes in the armor, a large dorsal fin made of the same hard substance spiking from its back. Its tail seemed short at first, a finlike tail with one side much longer than the other and almost sickle shaped, but it whipped out at the trolls with surprising speed and range, the dark flesh exposed and unprotected as the tail lashed.

“Aim for the tail!” He shouted, watching any hits bounce uselessly off the plates. The thing looked at him again, snarling. While it looked distracted, the teal darted forward, sickles raised to slash through the weak point but he didn’t seem to notice the sharp end of the tail whipping towards him, his morail crying out. Eridan cursed and sped his run, hooking an arm around the troll’s waist and throwing him to the ground in time to feel the hard tail crash into the side of his helmet, shattering the visor and most of the side and knocking his rebreather off. His lips pursed as he ripped the ruined helmet from his head, dodging another blow as he clicked the base of his backup helmet around his neck. The hooked tip caught his fin, tearing through the thin membrane, and sending him rolling backwards to get out of range. He saw arrows sprouting from the chinks in its armor and turned to see a very angry blueblood standing protectively over the teal as he got to his feet. A bit of blood seeped from a crack in his helmet and his footing wobbled, but he managed to stay upright. A roar of outrage had Eridan’s fins pressing against his head as he dove for his rebreather, clicking it into place and praying it worked, sighing in relief as air filled his lungs. He jumped to his feet, gun at the ready, only to watch the indigo with the strange clubs lunging for the creature. An expert flip wrapped the string between the clubs around the tail closest to the armored end and the troll perched for a moment on the lashing tail before pulling it tight. The shriek that followed was deafening as the end fell motionless to the ground. Before either side could land another blow, the creature darted into the brush.

It was only then that Eridan noticed his com was flashing.

“Captain, we’ve got something here.”

“Come in, I think somethins followin us.”

“Captain! We need backup!”

Eridan felt a chill wrap around him. Whatever these things were, they were smart. They had waited for the groups to separate before attacking. He heard a sharp call and couldn’t shake the feeling that more were coming, and fast. “Fall back!” He hissed, both to his group and into his com, taking off back towards the pods with a pause occasionally to make sure they were still behind him. As much as he’d tried to be harsh earlier, he didn’t want to lose anyone.

They reached the pods about the same time as the others and he could already see the injuries. An unconscious olive slung over a cerulean’s shoulders, two indigos carrying a third between them, blood painting armor and skin as they looked behind them. He could see the creatures closing in, surrounding them with full intent to wipe them out. “Get into your pods!” he shouted, “And retreat to the ships.”

He heard a growl beside him, whirling to see the indigo with normal clubs from his team glaring slightly. “We can beat them.”

“That’s not our job. Our job is to scout planets, to claim them. Others will wipe out the hostile life but if you want to stay on the planet and wait for them be my guest. If not, get in your fucking pod and get your ass back to the ship.”

Eridan watched as he slowly backed down, climbing into his pod. One by one they took off, except for Eridan’s own, but he had a final task. He pulled a small canister from his belt and shoved it into the dirt before pressing a bright fuchsia button on the side. Light burst from it, emblazoning the Empresses flag on the sky and sending a beacon to let the entire Alternian fleet know another planet had been claimed for the Empire. While the light distracted the creatures, he jumped into his pod and slammed a hand on the launch button, feeling dizzier than ever as they shot towards the ship.

Once inside, he almost stumbled and ripped the helmet from his head. Blood stained his ruined uniform, an uncomfortable amount of it dying the fabric.

“That was a cowards move,” he heard muttered behind him, stiffening as he faced the indigo from before. “A real Alternian soldier never runs from a fight.”

“Then I suppose real Alternian’s have a death wish,” Eridan growled back. “I kept this crew alive, as is my _job_. We explored enough to gain samples. Did anyone find anything useful?”

“Er, I found several puddles of something that looked like oil,” a teal in the back called.

“And I found metal chips scattered!” A proud sounding indigo boasted. “I think there are deposits just under the surface.”

“There was a group of trees with something that looked like fruit,” added an olive.

“We did exactly what we came here to do. We found possible resources and documented sentient life. It’s not our job to try and fight all of them.”

“It would be simple enough to get rid of them. Just send some sludgebloods down, even if they can’t beat the they’ll soften them up. I know there are plenty of olive’s and teal’s on board.” They eyed the teal from their group, who had a cracked horn and was nursing a large scrape across his forehead. Their morail stepped in front of them, letting out a short growl towards the indigo.

It made Eridan almost sick to think that just a few sweeps ago he might have been the one suggesting that. When he was young he’d taken the caste system as complete law, looking down at everyone below him. Slowly, his friends had drawn him from those beliefs, his morail showing him how terrible it was to hold onto that. His chest ached as he crossed his arms.

“Well as far as I’m concerned all of you dirtscrapers are on the same level. And if I wanted to ‘soften them up’ I’d send the morons first, but I can only seem to find one, and they’re standing in front of me.”

He caught the grateful and surprised looks he was getting from the lower members of his crew, but he’d stand by what he said.

Indigo rose in the other troll’s cheeks and they stormed for their room.

“All injured parties report to the medbay. After treatment, submit your reports. I’ll be submitting them to the Empress shortly.”

Before he could exit the bay, a hesitant hand on his shoulder stopped him. He paused, glancing over to see the blueblood from his group looking rather nervous. “Yes?”

“Sir- Captain Ampora. I just wanted to,” he paused for a moment, looking embarrassed.

The teal popped out from behind him, leaning on him for support. “He wanted to say thanks for keeping me from getting myself killed.”

“Coryan!” the blueblood scolded, frowning at him. “I was handling it.”

“No, you were being a dork. The Captain ain’t gonna bite your head off for thanking him!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so impulsive.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just help me to the medbay. Thanks again, Cap!”

“Coryan, be respectful. He’s our Captain.”

Coryan rolled his eyes. “Fine. Thank you, Captain Ampora.”

“It’s not a problem,” Eridan replied, mostly amused at the interaction as he continued on his way to the Helmsblock.

“Captain,” Mituna greeted him, earning a nod in return as Eridan caught himself from stumbling. “Should I call the Medic?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, feeling like he was going to pass out. “Get me all of the footage from the expedition. Did the sensors manage to get any samples?”

There was a pause. “They managed to get thampleth of motht of the marked areath,”

“Great. Get me that information as soon as it’s avvaila- fuck, available.” He shook his head frowning as the edges of his vision grew dark. How much blood had he lost again?

He braced himself against the main console, fighting to stay upright. He heard something about calling the medic again, but didn’t respond as seconds later he hit the ground and fell into blissful unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main alien is based sort of on a thresher shark? I might do some drawings of it if anyone is interested, of the aliens and the OCs!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a warning, more blood and medical stuff in this chapter, though I don't think it's too graphic. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's reading this, you're all fantastic!

For a brief moment Mituna wondered what the blaring in his ears was, almost too caught up in the pounding of his own heart and the cold panic surging through his blood as the much younger troll hit the floor with a dull thud. Red light flashed across his vision, jerking his thoughts into working order as he realized the alarm echoing through the ship had been flipped by…him. Distress signals weren’t something that normally bothered the ships he powered, a sign of something wrong with the Helmsman whether physical or otherwise, but in that moment, he could barely focus enough to shut the alarm off and page the medic.

The captain had looked pale when he’d come into the room, though Mituna couldn’t properly judge the amount of blood on his uniform from his angle above the room. He’d offered to call the medic, hesitating when the violet had refused, almost believing that he’d overestimated the seriousness of the wound before the troll had crumpled to the ground. There was a sickening thud as his forehead bounced off the sharp edge of the main panel before hitting the floor. Blood spread slowly from the wound, pooling beneath black wisps of hair across the cool metal floor.

“ _Medic Nikola, your assistance is required in the Helmsblock immediately_ ,” he spit over the com for a second time, hating how much emotion had reached his voice and hoping the static was enough to cover it as he watched her burst from the infirmary in a full sprint, her medpack slung over her back and the loose doctorturer coat billowing behind her as she darted through the hallways. In record time, she’d burst through the door to the Helmsblock, her eyes wide as she stared for a long moment at the body of their captain.

There was only a moment before she kneeled beside him, pulling a rag from her bag and pressing it firmly against his head and letting one hand hold it in place while the other searched her bag for something to put over his shoulder, though the blood there had mostly stopped flowing. “Do you know what happened?”

“He jutht lotht a ton of blood,” Mituna said simply. “And hit hith head on the way down. I’m not thure what happened to him on-planet, but I’m almotht thertain he got bit.”

“And just why didn’t he come straight to the infirmary?” she demanded, slowly lifting the rag from his head to look at the wound. It was fairly shallow, running from just in front of his temple into his hairline with a violet bruise surrounding it. She huffed and began cleaning the cut, glancing up at the Helmsman for an explanation.

“He thaid he wath fine.”

“Well obviously, he wasn’t, he was just being a dumbass about it,” she grumbled. “Next time just call me down before he passes out. I’ve just got to make sure he gets proper food and rest for the next few days,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “And that he doesn’t have a concussion. We have a few portable scanners, but I don’t really have the time to grab one of those right now. I’m gonna get him stitched up, but then I’m gonna need you to let me into his quarters so I can get him to bed.”

Mituna gave a sharp nod, frowning at the motionless body of their captain. His eyes caught the rise and fall of the violet’s chest, monitoring the movement to make sure he was still breathing as Aphina threaded a needle and began sewing the gash shut with small sutures.

“Am I going to have to examine you next?” she asked, wiping violet blood away and plastering a bandage over the stitches as Eridan’s eyelids began to flutter. Before Mituna could answer, a soft groan came from the violet and he abruptly tried to sit up, though Aphina didn’t let him get far. “Oh no you don’t. You’ve gotten hurt bad enough as it is, don’t make this worse by squirming around now.” She crossed her arms, frowning. “Or do you have a secret death wish I need to know about?”

“’m fine,” he mumbled. “Don’t need your help.”

“Bullshit!” She huffed. “Look I’m sorry but may I speak freely. I know you’re a little more lenient than other captains but I don’t feel like gettin culled tonight.”

Eridan gave a hesitant nod, refusing to lay down but no longer trying to get up.

“I realize that you’ve got this whole ‘tough seadweller’ thing going, but I really don’t think a point is worth risking your health over. So, next time just call me. I can’t make you come to the infirmary, or make you accept medical treatment, but honestly I’m pretty glad I ended up on your ship and you’re one captain I’d very much like to stay alive.”

There was a moment of silence before Eridan muttered something under his breath, but relaxed a little. “Fine fine, just make it quick. My head is killin me.”

“Well if you’d gotten some help it wouldn’t have happened,” she chirped in an overly sweet voice, snickering at his halfhearted glare. “Don’t be so grumpy.” She’d been the first to act so casually towards him, and he seemed to appreciate it especially as others who’d been scared of him were doing the same. She respected him and, mostly, trusted his judgement, which had Eridan himself relaxing a bit.

Eridan was giving Aphina an odd look, his frown becoming pained before he looked away from her. The playful laughter died from her eyes and her shoulders tensed slightly.

“Captain Ampora? Is…somethin wrong? Aside from the injuries of course.”

“I’m fine,” he said tersely, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground as though it could hide the few tears that welled along his lids. There was a long silence as Aphina cut the ruined sleeve of Eridan’s uniform away to reveal the jagged marks where teeth had pierced and ripped flesh. A few of the cuts had grey and blue chunks protruding from them, earning a grimace from Aphina as she searched her bag for a pair of forceps. Luckily, they weren’t barbed and actually came out rather easily, the biggest problem being their heavily serrated edges.

Mituna watched curiously as Aphina’s eyes stayed very firmly on her work, wondering if she was being respectful of his wishes or wary of his anger. She cleaned each cut as thoroughly as she could, ignoring the hisses that escaped through grit fangs and pursed lips. The violet troll managed to stay still even as she sewed the wounds shut, his discomfort very well hidden in the mask his face had become.

Aphina pressed her fingers lightly against the more heavily bruised area of his shoulder, frowning when Eridan winced sharply. “I think you have a fracture, but I can’t be sure how bad it is unless you come to the infirmary. Can you raise your arm for me?”

He cautiously lifted his arm, hissing and pulling it close to his body when it was almost straight out. She grimaced.

“Yeah, most likely a fracture but nothing feels too abnormal, so I don’t think I need to realign anything. Especially with your heightened healing, it should be fine within a few weeks. Before the next planet even. But still, you shouldn’t put any strain on it until then. In fact, I want your arm in a sling for the next week.”

Eridan was quick to sit up then, hissing slightly as she took hold of his fin to clean the gash. “No! I need to be training with my soldiers daily, I can’t be walking around in a sling. I’ll be fine.”

“I can make a makeshift brace if the sling is the problem, but you _can’t_ run around with that arm. At best, it’ll heal funny and you’ll be in for more pain in the future, but at worst you could worsen it to the point that surgery would be necessary to fix it! Just supervise, you can afford a break from training. We both know how impressive your combat record is.”

She held his glare for a few long minutes before he finally rolled his eyes and sat back. “Fine. Is anything else broken?”

A grin broke across her face, relief flashing in her eyes as she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she chirped. “Now for the last thing I’ll just wrap your shoulder up until I can get a brace set up. So, let’s get this shirt out of the way and you’ll be on your way before you know it.” Her hands were quick to unbutton his uniform, the high collar falling open and letting the edges of bandages show almost glaringly against his gray skin. She paused, a finger brushing the edge of one of the bandages as though to pull it off. “Is something the matter with your gills-”

There was a deep, almost feral growl as she was shoved away from Eridan before she could finish her question. His hands went protectively to his own neck, a bit of olive coloring the tips of his claws. Mituna watched as his face turned from rage to horror upon noticing the blood and the way his claws had pierced her shoulder as he shoved her away with highblood strength.

Shoving himself to his feet, he darted out the door with only a slight stumble and disappeared into his room in a matter of minutes. Mituna tore his attention from the distressed Captain and looked at Aphina, who was curled against one of the panels with four short cuts in the chest of her uniform. The skin was barely even broken, the bleeding already stopped, but the wary fear remained despite this. Shakily, she stood and looked at Mituna, biting her lip for a moment before asking a simple question.

“No one put those bandages on him after he got back on the ship, did they?”

“I can’t thay for thure, but I didn’t thee him talk to any other medics.”

She looked down, frowning at her hands for another moment. “And he was wearing a rebreather,” she muttered, almost to herself. “I saw it when they came back aboard. Helmsman?”

“Yeth?”

“The planet’s air, it was unbreathable, correct?”

“Yeth. The water vapor wath too prevalent. In order to breathe it, you’d have to have-“ He paused, eyes widening behind his goggles.

“Gills?” She asked, emotion flickering from curiosity to concern across her face as she stared at the door the Captain had recently ran through.

Mituna flipped through the cameras, stopping and focusing on the Captain’s door as his own mix of emotion took hold. The silence was only broken by his confirmation.

“Gillth.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood, panic and some self harm in this chapter, just wanted to give you guys a heads up

Eridan’s uniform felt far too tight as he slammed the door behind himself, leaning against it and sliding to the floor with his breath hissing out high pitched and hard between his teeth. His hand slid under his collar, claws tearing the bandages off as he felt cool, useless air filtering through the faintly pulsing filaments. A growl started deep in his chest, his fins flaring and flapping uselessly as the cold panic that had filled his stomach and shortened his breath turned to rage. Rage at Aphina for poking her nose where it didn’t belong, rage at the Helmsman who had called her despite his wishes, and, most importantly, rage at himself. The pathetic highblood who couldn’t even keep the respect of his crew intact for an entire mission, who couldn’t squash the unease among the crew nor the fear of them turning on him, the highblood who lived as a disgrace to his blood and the Empire for the simple fact of being alive. Schoolfeeds from his early sweeps crept from the shadows of his memories, when he learned the basic rules of troll society.

_The strong survive, the weak die. If you’re defective, mutated or otherwise useless to the Empress it’s your duty to turn yourself in._

He remembered the lesson being drilled into his head in the long schoolfeeds, how enthusiastically he’d latched onto the idea of being a perfect seadweller. He’d collected history books that detailed the ancient battles and politics of the royal class, finding every record he could on his own ancestor. He’d fantasized for sweeps about how he was going to take his rightful place in the Empire one day, crafting Orphaner armor and showing it off to his lusus, who always seemed dismissive of the idea. For all the planning he did, all the books he’d read and all the schoolfeeds he ordered, there was one thing he never thought to question. Why his lusus never let him in the ocean.

The seahorse had been cranky for most of his grubhood, nudging the wriggler onto the beach and encouraging him to keep himself busy with anything except for swimming. Eridan hadn’t thought much about it at the time, figuring that the lusus had some reason for not wanting him wandering into the water. The only time he’d asked about it, he’d been told there were bigger seadwellers in the water and he could go when he was older. It wasn’t until later that Eridan began arguing with him about it, after he met Feferi.

The thought of her was still painful, making Eridan wince and force his memories past that particular montage, curling his knees tighter to his chest as his fingers ran over his gills.

When he was four sweeps he’d gotten tired of ‘waiting until he was older’ and decided to sneak to the water’s edge once the lusus was asleep. The edges of the sea cave he called home blocked the rays of the sun, leaving a welcoming pool sitting at the back of his hive. He’d crept past the snoring seahorse, fins wiggling with excitement as he looked at the sparkling water. It’d be quick of course, just a dip under the surface to see what the big deal was about. The cool water had felt fantastic, until he’d ducked his head under. His gills had opened to take a deep breath in, but instead of sending separated air to his lungs his chest had been filled with pure water as his gills tried and failed to function. He’d coughed, only filling his lungs more as he tried desperately to breathe and flail his way to the surface. Something had wrapped around his middle, yanking him upwards until he broke the surface and rolled onto rough rock. He’d spent the next hour coughing up water and shaking violently, Seahorsedad watching over him with a stern scolding following the incident. The shaken troll had quickly agreed to stay away from the water, or at least out of it, though it had been a long while before he dared to go anywhere near it.

Perhaps he should’ve turned himself in as soon as he’d realized what was going on, been culled before he could do any damage. Maybe he could’ve saved his friends a lot of trouble, saved everybody’s time, especially now that somebody knew. But he hadn’t, he’d gone on thinking that maybe if he was good enough, maybe if he proved he was useful even without his gills, maybe just maybe they wouldn’t care. But they would, and he knew they would despite every hope he might’ve clung to. He knew he was dead the moment the Empire found out, only to be remembered as the failed seadweller that thought he could be something he wasn’t.

Something cool slipped over the skin of his hand, pausing his spiral of thoughts. His breathing still came in short, erratic bursts and the pain in his stomach was still all too real, but he managed to still the shaking of his hand enough to pull it from his neck and stare in horror at the blood painting it. Sharp twinges of pain pulsed from his neck, pulling him to his feet and into the private bathroom of the Captain’s Quarters to stare at the mess he’d made. The left side of his neck was oozing violet blood, the delicate frills of his gills in tatters. Cuts dragged over the slits, marring them in short lines he knew would become thick scars. A curse burst from him as he tried to turn on the faucet with hands that were trembling uncontrollably. The shakes had crawled into the rest of his body, his legs not wanting to remain stable under him as he finally got the water running and began frantically cleaning off his neck. After minutes of painful scrubbing, he let the rag fall from his hand as his legs gave out for the second time that day. A sob broke through, tears falling as the panic and anger rushed through the barrier he’d been doing his best to lock it behind and left him a shaking, crying mess curled on his bathroom tiles.

He was scared, terrified of dying and absolutely sure that he was going to no matter how much he tried. He’d done his best to hide it and live with it, worked his way through the ranks and earned himself a spot as a Captain and this…this was how it was going to end. Culled because a medic saw too much and he’d let her get close enough to see it. Even now he was ready for the other soldiers to burst into his room and drag him to a cell, for the ship to change course and send them right back to Alternia. A hand reached out and weakly closed the door, counting the seconds until something happened.

Except, nothing did. Seconds turned to long minutes, dragging through sweeps and eternities as he stared at the cold metal, but only silence answered his anxieties. Slowly, ever so slowly, his breathing softened and slowed, the freezing stab of panic fading into apprehension as his rose to still weak but no longer shaking feet. The door was opened, eyes staring almost accusingly at the main door for a long while as something warm and odd flickered behind his ribs. Was it possible that Aphina hadn’t reported him, nor the Helmsman? Or had they simply not figured it out yet? Could he hope that they wouldn’t, that they wouldn’t get him culled?

_You’re one Captain I’d very much like to stay alive._

He forced himself to take a deep breath, once again making an effort to clean his injured gills. This time went smoother, the shaking in his hands almost completely gone by the time the job was done. He stared at his reflection, frowning at it for a drawn-out moment before turning and walking as firmly as he could to put on a new uniform, grimacing at the way the collar brushed against his sore gills but unwilling to unbutton it or risk someone seeing the injuries.

His hand landed on the door again, fear piercing his abdomen again as he did so but he shoved it away the best he could and took another long breath. The creak of the door made him flinch, though he dropped what expression he could as he stepped into the hallway. His footsteps seemed far too loud, echoing back at him as he made his way to the most familiar place on the ship, the Helmsblock. Aphina was no longer inside, though Eridan didn’t relax a bit at that, but the Helmsman’s face only held curiosity and something Eridan told himself couldn’t be concern. Silence stretched between them as Eridan contemplated bolting to his room again until his inevitable culling.

“Captain?”

Eridan jumped at the voice, barely managing to keep his own steady as he looked up at the other troll. “Yes?”

The silence stretched on again, each beat of Eridan’s heart becoming louder in his own ears.

“Would you like me to send out the file for our next planet, we will be there within the perigee?”

The tension that had been building in Eridan flooded out so quickly he almost burst into laughter. The warm feeling had started again in his chest and this time he recognized it.

Hope.


	10. Chapter 10

Mituna could remember the confusion that had crossed the Captain’s face clearly, replacing the fear he’d been trying so hard to hide. The edge of a bandage was once again visible under his collar, but this one was flecked in violet that had the Helmsman frowning. He still didn’t quite understand why he worried about the other, or why he cared what happened to him. He was a fair captain, but it wasn’t like most were outright cruel to their Helmsmen. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust to another captain. What would be hard was…not being treated like a troll.

It was odd to think that something so simple as a name could make him happy, but being called “Mituna” instead of “Helmsman” was something he couldn’t get enough of. Although Eridan was the only one to use his name, it was still nice to feel like more than a battery for the first time in centuries. He seemed to be curious at the very least, asking questions about who he’d been before the ship. Tales of his youth made up many conversations, though both of them avoided the rebellion like the plague. Others consisted of strange questions that ranged from how he was feeling to what he thought about the trolls on board. Sometimes Eridan seemed to forget he was there, ranting mostly to himself about frustrations about the crew, the job, everything. But as soon as someone else set foot in the block he was cold as a highblood should be.

Maybe he should take that as an insult; perhaps he was only being spoken to because he wasn’t viewed as sentient enough to matter if he heard. Something told him that wasn’t it, because he knew there was still a lot swarming his captain’s mind. Most days he retired only for a few hours before restlessly wandering the ship, though Mituna had been careful  not to comment on it.

It had been days since what Mituna had mentally  labelled “The Incident”, but the Captain still seemed tense and avoided the infirmary as though they were cullers instead of healers. Perhaps to him they were, or at least one troll was. He considered reminding Eridan that he had nothing to worry about from Aphina, but he doubted it would help.

“How much further is it to the next planet?” brought him from his thoughts, his mind flicking through the files of their next mission until the blurry image of a planet spun before them. It was almost the exact opposite of the planet they’d encountered before, the ground broken in jaggedly edged pools of molten rock and magma spewing volcanos bursting high into the atmosphere. The only water that existed there seemed to be in deep lakes of boiling liquid that Eridan shuddered to think about getting near. Mituna wondered if he should suggest adding heat resistant plating to the scanners, just to be safe since they hadn’t been able to get a very good read on the exact temperatures of the planet.

“Another week at motht,” he quickly said, frowning a bit at the impatient grimace that flashed across Eridan’s face. “I could thpeed thingth up if we’re behind thchedule,” he offered, running through what systems he’d need to keep an eye on if he pushed the speed of the ship to a more strenuous level.

Eridan quickly waved a hand, running the other through his hair. “Don’t bother. I don’t need you overexertin yourself and it’ll give the crew a bit more time to recover. Fuck, some of em still won’t be in any shape for an expedition. At least this planet might not even require one,” he trailed off, only to look sharply at Mituna when a laugh escaped him. “What’s so funny?”

Mituna pressed his lips together, struggling to swallow the last of his laugh. “Sorry, Captain Ampora. It was just that my abilities could hardly even be strained on this ship. I was able to take the Battleship Condescension from one end of the Empire to the other in under a week, although that was under extreme circumstances. I was not…entirely overexerting myself there, so I believe I could handle picking up the pace-“

“I saw how you were on the Empress’s ship,” Eridan quickly said, his brow furrowing. “I don’t need to ask that from you so I won’t. You were barely even a troll on there.”

“I’m not a troll anymore,” Mituna snapped, the surprise on the captains face enough to cut him off there, especially as it turned to anger.

“Yes you fuckin are! You are a member of my crew and I’m not about to let you push yourself back to the skeleton I met you as! Cod damnit, I’ve already had enough people die because of me and you’re _not_ gonna be another one of them, Sol-“ He cut off, his face paling and his fins pressing tightly against the sides of his head. “Forget it. Keep us on our current course and that’s an order.” With tightly grit fangs, his swept out of the room and left Mituna wondering what the hell had just happened.

Turning his attention back to the systems, Mituna flipped between cameras. Most of the crew was in the mess hall, the remaining trolls either training or… He frowned as he noticed two trolls in a back hallway, talking intently about something. The indigo and the navy that had been on Eridan’s squad for the first exploration, with the former seeming agitated while the latter kept glancing over her shoulder. Mituna cursed the fact that he couldn’t hear them, not liking how suspicious they looked. When they broke apart, the navy walked quickly to the mess hall and sat between two other blue bloods. A few other trolls were quick to join them, leaning in to listen to whatever she was saying. She was smirking, tapping at the table with a claw to emphasize certain points.

The door opened and Eridan swept into the mess hall. The way the group quieted, digging into their food as though they’d never been talking, only made them more suspicious. The leader’s eyes followed Eridan across the room as he picked up his own food and sat at a table in the corner. Three trolls rushed to join him, an indigo, a teal and a blue. The first seemed completely silent, though the other two chattered enough to make up for it. Especially the teal, who seemed completely comfortable conversing with the captain. Eridan didn’t seem to mind, although he was still tense as he seemed to let the conversation wash over him.

Mituna tore himself away from the scene, running through the systems more than he normally did to try and focus on something else. He flipped through the reports that were still being sent, triple checking that they were properly submitted before they ended up in the hands of the Empress. She was the definition of a perfectionist, or as she’d call it ”perch-fectiveness”, when it came to her Empire and even the slightest mistake could be grounds for punishment if she was in a bad mood.

The thought of her brought Mituna’s mind back to her ship, wondering who had replaced him. Did she regret getting rid of him, or was she perfectly content with her new helmsman? He was well aware that he shouldn’t care, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. That had been his life for centuries and it wasn’t exactly pleasant, but after all this time it had been familiar. He liked this ship better, where he wasn’t constantly balancing on the edge of death, all of the while knowing that if something were to happen she’d extend his lifespan to keep him a pawn in her cruel little game.

A sharp pain yanked him back into his body and he gave a small hiss, opening his eyes just enough to squint into the face of the troll that was dabbing antiseptic into the still healing wounds around his eyes. They were mostly healed now, but Aphina said she’d rather keep them clean until they were completely healed.

She rolled her eyes at the hiss, flicking his nose. “You seemed out of it and I said your name a few times but you didn’t respond. These look great, but they’re gonna leave some scars definitely.”

“I already knew that,” he huffed, mostly under his breath. There was a long silence between them as she cleaned the area and put his goggles back in place, which he broke before she could leave. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

Aphina glared at him, crossing her arms. “Do you really think I would?”

“No, but there’th no harm in checking.”

“There is if you’re checking because you don’t trust me. I have nothing against him. In fact, I like him a lot as both my Captain and my friend. I’m not going to betray him and get him culled.”

“I never thaid you were,” Mituna hissed, sparks dancing along his limbs. “But thome of the crew have been acting awfully thuthpithiouth and I needed to make thure word wathn’t getting around.”

She paused, frowning and looking at him carefully. “Suspicious?”

“Meeting when the Captain ithn’t around and breaking up when he ith. Thtuff like that. Maybe it’th nothing but I don’t want to take any chantheth. Think you can help keep an eye on them?”

She nodded firmly. “Sure. I’ll let you know if I hear anythin.” With a short wave she left, though Mituna thought he caught a quick motion in the hall before she stepped out. He checked the cameras, but didn’t see anything, turning his attention back to the mess hall. The Captain was gone, but stepping through the doors was the blueblood from earlier, a wide smirk gracing her face as she sat down and making Mituna wonder where she’d just came from.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we see the second planet, a bit more action and a big surprise!

Eridan watched with a frown as the planet came into view, mountains spewing ash and glowing magma into the atmosphere. He didn’t like the idea of setting foot on the planet, though it was possible there were cooler areas that they could safely explore. Still, he could feel his fins curling at the thought of the heat, his throat already feeling dry. He turned from the image, jumping when he came face to face with Aphina.

His stomach leapt to his throat, his fins uncurling and folding back as a defensive hiss built in his throat. It was ridiculous, how much fear was coursing through him at the sight of the olive troll, but he couldn’t help it. Although he could easily silence her, something about her cheerful demeanor and the way she treated him reminded him far too much of another for him to even consider killing her. He watched her warily, her eyes wide and startled as she quickly took a few steps back and let out a short, placating trill. Had anyone else done that, Eridan would have been furious at the treating him like some upset grub, but for now the sound was a little comforting. His fins relaxed and he forced himself to stand straighter as the fear ebbed. It had been almost two weeks since…the last planet and nothing had happened to him yet. On some level, he knew he could trust her, trust them, but he doubted the apprehension would wane entirely anytime soon.

“I brought you some…covers,” she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder although they both knew there was no one nearby. “They should blend better and they have a bit of cooling solution to keep you from drying out.” Eridan raised an eyebrow, holding out his hand to take two small, gray sheets from her. Violet rose in his cheeks as he realized they were bandages, a grateful feeling swelling in his chest.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment, tucking them into his pocket. Even though he wouldn’t have to worry about the water from the air being breathed in, covering them still seemed like a good idea. He hadn’t even known that they had gray ones, as most of the ones he could find were white.

She grinned at him, relaxing a little, and her ears perked up as she tucked her braid behind it. “It’s not a problem. I just figured that might make things a little easier.” Her face grew a little more serious and she crossed her arms. “But you’d better come straight to the infirmary when you get back on board. I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

At his grimace, she huffed and chirped sharply at him. “I’m serious. None of us need you getting seriously injured. Where would we be without our captain?” A little smirk hid itself behind her words and he finally sighed, letting himself smile back at her.

“Fine. I’ll be in the infirmary as soon as we get back. But you should have a little more faith that I’ll be just fine.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Aphina said, cheerful once more as she turned to head back to her station. “And don’t forget that the Helmsman needs a check in with me soon, so I’ll need a time for that.”

“Of course,” he called after her, feeling a little lighter as he looked back out the window to the planet. He should probably start getting the squads together soon, though the only differences from last time would be the few trolls still recovering would be missing. With a light sigh, he started down the hall, only to once again run into someone as he turned the corner. One of the blueblood’s from his squad stood before him, her glasses slightly askew and her cold look sending an unpleasant shiver down Eridan’s spine. He recognized the feeling from when he was younger, the feeling of an insect as a spider draws near. Of wanting to run but being unable to move or even look away.

“Paryci,” he said before the fear could make it to his eyes. “You should be heading to the bay. We’ll be going planetside in less than an hour, with or without you.” With that, he swept around her, not liking the cold fear that settled in his stomach with every meeting. “Get to your position before I decide to revoke your expedition privileges.” Most likely, he wouldn’t do that, but if it made her follow orders even a little more that was a win. At least she wasn’t as bad as her friend, Anguem, who had made it very clear that they did not agree with his decisions. Unfortunately for him, both of them were on his squad. Fortunately, the other three seemed to like him well enough to keep them from trying anything. At least he hoped so.

Eridan stepped into the bay, surveying the area as trolls wandered about. Some sat in small circles, munching on snacks and chatting, while others readied their pods and he could see Coryan sitting idly on top of a pod while his morail scolded him from the ground. At least no one was causing trouble.

A tremor shook the floor, letting them know they had reached the planet, and Eridan heard a familiar voice in his comm. “Captain, the scouts have been released. Should I let you know the final results?”

He put a finger to his fin, looking over the crew as he answered. “Yes. See if there’s anywhere cool enough for an expedition. If not, just collect available samples and claim the planet. We can let the Empress decide if it’s worth anything.”

“Yes, Captain Ampora.”

With one last look over the others, he ducked into the bathroom to put the bandages over his gills, grinning at how well they blended against his skin. He’d have to remember to thank Aphina for them again next time he saw her. The static sounded in his ear again, startling him enough to make him jump as he hurried back to the bay.

“Captain, there seems to be a cooler area in the basin of a dormant volcano, though it seemed to be mostly rock structures and a few areas that could even be cool enough water to support larger life forms.”

“What is the atmosphere?”

“Surprisingly, it looks to be a good amount of oxygen. There is sulfur and other gases, but none in dangerous amounts. There should be no need for rebreathers, though you can take them just in case.”

Eridan nodded, mostly to himself, and turned to the crew. “Everyone, get ready for an expedition. This planet is different than the last one, but isn’t any less deadly. The air won’t kill us, but the heat can so watch your step. As always, keep an eye out for life and possible resources and most importantly, don’t do anything stupid.”

The response came much quicker than this time, bringing a grin to Eridan’s face as he watched them scramble to get ready. Coryan hopped off of the pod, bouncing toward Eridan with a wide smile.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” he chirped, his ears perked up.

“Afternoon, Coryan. How’s your horn?”

“It’s fine. Was just a crack anyway,” he said quickly, waving a hand. “I got cleared by the head medic anyway, so I’m good to go!”

“Alright. Just be careful,” Eridan said, amusement clear in his voice.

“Will do!” With that he was back at his morails side, helping adjust his armor before they climbed into the pod. The others seemed to be following suit, almost all of them ready to go within minutes.

Eridan climbed into his own pod, the same indigo as before sitting beside him. Marion, he was pretty sure they were called. It was a little confusing sometimes, having to keep track of that many names but he was doing his best and it seemed to be working. They gave him a quick, barely there smile before strapping in.

“Helmsman, start the countdown,” he said quickly, flicking the buttons to bring the ship to life. The numbers flashed before him, flicking down quickly as the bay doors began to open. The pod lifted into the air as a zero flashed across the screen, the fiery planet glowing beneath them.

Marion looked excited as they began their descent, avoiding bursts of fire and steam as they tried to find the cooler area. Before them sat a wide basin, the black rock cut into sharp spires and holes Eridan assumed were tunnels. Fuzzy looking leaves poked up from the corners, as black as the soot that surrounded them and the first sign of life Eridan had seen. A soft clang was heard as they landed and he was the first to jump out. Heat hit him in waves, weighing down on him as his breaths immediately became heavier in his chest and his fins curled up against his head.

He held his rifle close as he looked around, the squads coming together to decide on expedition paths. One climbed the nearest side to see what was at the top, while most of the others picked a tunnel to explore with strict orders to turn back at the first sign of danger. Eridan began climbing into a small tunnel that he could swear he felt a cool breeze coming from.

The tunnel edges were jagged and riddled with the fuzzy plants, though he’d admit he jumped a little when one of the plants revealed itself as a long wormlike creature with three fuzzy appendages where its head would be. It stopped to wiggle them at him before diving into a nearby hole and disappearing. At least it didn’t seem aggressive, not that that made Eridan relax at all.

In front of them a cluster of unstable looking formations crowded the walls, making him come to a stop. “I’ll see if it’s safe up ahead,” he said, sliding a foot forward and keeping an eye on the structures around him. That is, until a hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“I thought I told you to stay back- “he cut off as a rumble sent him falling to the ground. The rocks around them began crashing down, almost coming down on top of him. He rolled out of the way and scrambled to the nearest path, watching as the landslide effectively cut him off from their entrance. With a cold hit, he realized that Marion, Coryan and Bruete were on the other side, while Paryci and Anguem stood alongside him.

“CAPTAIN? ARE YOU OKAY?” Came Coryan’s voice.

“WE’RE FINE. GET BACK TO THE PODS, WE’LL FIND ANOTHER WAY OUT.” He turned to the others. “Do either of you know how that started?”

Both of them shook their heads, though the barely hidden smirk on Paryci’s face still made him entirely too nervous. He sighed and began quickly walking through the tunnel, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible. His chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe as he pushed forward.

The cool breeze was stronger now, the scent of water familiar on his tongue as he stepped into a large cavern. On the other side, he could see the sky through the wide mouth of a cave, hope rising in his chest. The only problem was the large, startlingly clear lake that stretched between them and the exit. It would take forever to walk around it, but that seemed to be their only option at this point.

“We’ll need to walk around,” he said, stopping when Anguem’s hand gripped his uniform. “And just _what_ do you think you’re doin?”

“Just wondering why you don’t swim across, maybe let everyone know we’re okay?” Paryci said, a venomous smile on her face.

Eridan felt panic rising in him and tried to shove Anguem away, but only succeeded in having both arms held behind his back. “What is the meanin of this? Let me go, that’s an order!”

Neither of them listened, Paryci flicking open the collar of his uniform and grinning wider as her claw hooked under a bandage. “Or is this why? Something you need to tell us, Captain?”

His breath caught in his throat, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he struggled uselessly. “Let me go!” he yelled again, hissing wildly as she peeled the bandages off and took a look at his scarred gills.

“What do we have here?” She practically purred, tapping a claw against her chin as she pressed a button on her comm, sending their coordinates flashing across the screens of all within range. Calling the crew to them. Eridan paled, struggling harder. “Looks like the fake little seadwellers been found out. Anything to say to your crew?”

“CAPTAIN?”

He looked helplessly across the lake, seeing his crew standing on the shore with confused faces as he felt himself being lifted from the ground. There was barely a moment to register what was happening as he was flung into the air with only water beneath him. He hit the surface and sank quickly beneath, the heat far from deadly but still unpleasant as he felt his lungs filling with it. Heavy limbs tried to pull him to the surface as he struggled against the water his gills were forcing into him, his vision darkening. The last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was Paryci smirking down at him and directing Anguem, who looked about to jump in the water.

He thought he heard a splash, but it didn’t matter anymore as he slipped into full darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to be updated. I hope this chapter can help make up for it.  
> TW: This chapter does contain blood and violence

The gentle buzz of his power humming through the ship was almost the only indication to Mituna that any time had passed at all. Other than the systems that told such things literally being wired into his brain, of course. Mituna let himself stare blankly at the steel ceiling, his eyes slowly losing focus as he let the buzzing flood over him. If he were to look to the camera’s, as he had been minutes before, he’d see the same trolls milling around doing their various jobs.

Aphina had been stocking the infirmary since early that evening, the other medics helping her as she tried to prepare for any injuries the crew could possibly come back with. Mituna had watched them for a while, his mind wandering as the ship hovered just outside the planet’s atmosphere. The only thing he had to worry about was gravity tugging the ship toward the heated, jagged surface below them, but he was more than confident in his ability to keep them exactly where they were.

A signal flared across the scouts as they collected samples, their movement pausing as the call rang out. It was a loud beeping as a map appeared on every scout’s screen and presumably on the holoscreens strapped to every crew member currently on planet. Concern lodged itself cold and sharp in the Helmsman’s stomach as he focused his sight through the camera of a single scout. The thin, metal contraption shot through the air toward the signal’s source. The only time a signal would be activated was if someone was in serious trouble…or if their heart rate was unable to be picked up by the health sensors in their armor. The image of rocks streaked violet flashed in his mind for a moment, though he was quick to shake it off.

It was a little strange to think about, why he was so worried about the Captain. In the past weeks, he’d blown it off as being a byproduct of someone being kind to him but somehow, he knew it was more than that. It had to be more than that when the very thought of him being injured was enough to have him close to panic. When he waited with something that might be happiness for every conversation, every chance to hear about the stresses and wish he could do more to help. There was a nagging feeling that he’d felt this before, though not for a very long time. He didn’t want to give it more thought than that, in case he was right. Being right would be insane, would be foolish and it would be an insult to _him_. Mituna shook the thoughts away, the signal blaring through his mind as the scout rounded a rocky corner just in time to see the body of their Captain sink beneath the clear surface.

Through the water it was easy to see the violet thrash, his mouth open and his eyes wide as bubbles poured from his lips, from his gills. His hands reached desperately for the surface, every struggle weaker than the last. The scout viewed the scene, it’s programming only allowing for observation and leaving Mituna helpless. Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Were they content to let him die? Rage flooded his veins as he looked at the trolls that Eridan had grown close to, as still as the rest of the crew while a second signal flared to life deep in the water. Mituna barely noticed the figure finally jumping into the lake as pain flared along his limbs. He was yanked from the camera to find that at some point he had struggled against the bioware, a subconscious attempt the free himself, colored energy crackling dangerously through the entire room as his lips curled into a snarl. The movement had pulled at the ports in his arms, leaving golden blood to drip from the wounds.

Within a minute he’d regained his focus, forcing himself back to the scout’s camera. A crowd had formed around the shore, a body flopped onto the rock. Beside it stood the indigo who’d been a problem before, Anguem. His hair was plastered to his skull with water, his face paint dripping but not gone. Mituna stayed within the camera, but he was still very aware of the deep growl that rose in his chest when their fist pounded against Eridan’s chest.

A few tense moments passed before they repeated the action and the limp body spasmed for a moment before lurching to his side. Eridan hunched in on himself, coughing violently as water poured from his lungs. He looked tiny, surrounded by his crew as the navy, having made her way around the cavern, approached him with a smirk. After a moment of watching him gasp for air she kicked him sharply in the side and turned to the crew. Mituna couldn’t hear what she was saying, but it couldn’t have been good.

He withdrew to the Helmsblock, calling Aphina with his blood pusher racing. “Thomething happened. Eridan’th hurt and I- I don’t know what’th going on. But be careful, that bitch Parythi did thomething.”

She nodded, though confusion still lingered among the concern on her face, especially as she noted the blood still leaking from around his ports. The scouts were returning to base, a screech of the doors letting him know that pods were doing the same. He shooed her from the room, flicking to the camera in the hull. The pods were pulling in, the clang of their landing only increasing Mituna’s anxiety as they began to open.

He couldn’t see much through the crowd of trolls, at least not at first. Before long he could see Anguem dragging Eridan roughly behind him, his wrists bound tightly behind his back by shackles. He struggled, but couldn’t do much as he was taken to a deeper part of the ship. It was a cramped block lined with cells, one of which Eridan was thrown into with the door firmly locked behind him.

The sound of the Helmsblock door opening surprised him, his eyes narrowing as Paryci stepped in front of him with a cocky smirk. “Well isn’t this cozy? A little smaller than I’d guess you were used to, but I suppose they didn’t think they’d be putting you of all trolls in here, Helmsman,” she said, trailing her claws over the main panel.

“Exit the Helmthblock and free the Captain. Mutiny ith punishable by public culling onthe the Empreth getth word of it,” Mituna said, barely able to keep from hissing the words. As it was, sparks still had Paryci’s hair lifting with static and his fangs were still very much bared.

“I’m sure the Empress will understand. I mean, violet or not, _Captain_ or not, treason is treason. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was rewarded for bringing him in. After all, it’s not everyday a troll tricks our Empress into making him Captain, hiding his mutation instead of turning himself in like a proper Alternian would. Hell, that’s probably why he’s been so…lenient on the sludgebloods aboard this ship. It’s disgraceful. I’ll be glad to see him culled.”

Red and blue filled his vision as he collected the energy he had, power filling him and bursting forth to burn her to ashes. She didn’t even flinch, tapping the screen next to her with a wicked grin as Mituna’s rage turned to agony. He’d almost forgotten about that particular feature, mostly because Eridan had never bothered to use it. In a moment, every bit of extra power was turned on him, overloading his brain as fire burned along every nerve ending. The psionic blast never reached her, fizzling out as pain shattered his focus. It lasted for only a few seconds, but left him gasping as he hung limply in the bioware. Though it left no physical mark on him, he felt flayed open and raw against the cool air.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying that again, although it’s cute to see how attached you are to him. I’d heard of helmsmen going pale for their captains, but this is almost sad. Now, if you’re little hissy fit is over, set a course for Alternia.”

Mituna narrowed his eyes, his breath still labored as he glared at her. “Unfortunately for you, I can’t change our courthe without orderth from the Captain. Traitor or not, it’th thtill him who’th in charge according to the thythtem.”

A faint growl slipped past her lips and she slammed her hand onto the screen again, pressing a finger to her comm as Mituna writhed. “Bring Ampora to the Helmsblock.”

By the time Mituna’s vision cleared the door was sliding open. Anguem had a hand on Eridan’s neck, barely short of cutting off his air, dragging him to the main console and dropping him to the ground to wheeze as he tried to catch his breath.

“Pathetic,” Paryci hissed, grabbing his hand, and wrenching his arms up behind his back as she pressed his palm to the scanner. “There, happy? You’ve got ‘approval’.”

“I didn’t thay approval. I thaid direct orderth,” Mituna coughed, sparks trailing feebly along his horns as he watched her grab Eridan by the chin. Her claws pricked the skin, letting violet beads drip to the floor.

“Order the Helmsman to set a course for Alternia. Or, better yet, order him to listen to me. I don’t want to deal with you more than I have to.”

Eridan raised his eyes from the ground, defiance flaring in them. At least he seemed to be recovered, though Mituna couldn’t imagine it doing him much good. He spat in her face, letting his fins flare. “You can’t make me do a damn thin. I am still your Captain.”

Paryci glared down at him, drawing her claws sharply over his cheek. “Don’t act like you’re the one in charge here. You’re nothing but cullbait, not even fit to lick the dirt off my shoes, much less gives me orders. Blood castes mean nothing when you’re a mutant.”

It became obvious that Eridan wasn’t planning on listening to her anytime soon, irritation twitching her eye as she realized this. She glanced at the Helmsman, raising an eyebrow and thinking for a moment before tapping the screen. Mituna could barely see Eridan sit up, but he heard him through the pain.

“STOP THAT!” he shouted. It sounded like he tried to get up, but he didn’t get far. “W-what are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I have to. You’re the one being difficult.”

Mituna went limp again as the pain dissipated, panting and looking at Eridan. He shook his head, silently begging him to stay quiet. He’d get them out of this…somehow.

Eridan’s eyes were too wide, his pupil’s thin slits with the yellow of his sclera edging towards orange around bright violet irises. His fins were flicking aggressively, his emotions broadcast far too easily in the tiny details of his expression. Though the worry, the rage, was clear, his lips pressed into a thin line as he once again glared defiantly at Paryci. This was the troll who had risen above his mutation, who had risked everything and proved himself among the best. Mituna had no doubt that if Eridan’s hands were free Paryci wouldn’t stand a chance. But they weren’t, and she had the upper hand here, scowling and grabbing his horn to throw him to the floor.

“Anguem. Go grab our lovely little medic, perhaps she can get a better answer out of him,” she hissed, taking a moment to calm herself as she took a deep breath and adjusted her glasses. The tall troll disappeared almost before she was done talking, their lip curling up to reveal the jagged mess of fangs that crowded their mouth. Mituna immediately tried to connect to the comm system, to warn Aphina before the other could find her, but Paryci stopped him with a simple button. He couldn’t remember it ever being used as often as this, though that may have been because the Empress found any attempt to rebel amusing. She only relied on it when she was in a bad mood or if she thought he was getting too cocky. The first was thankfully rare and the second hadn’t lasted for long.

Eridan had pulled himself to lean against the main console, struggling to get to his feet while Paryci’s back was turned. The opening of the door made her turn, her eyes narrowing as she swept his feet out from under him. “That was quick,” she said, her voice cold but calmer now.

Aphina’s ears were flat against her head, her eyes wide as she looked between where Eridan kneeled and Paryci. One arm was held tightly in Anguem’s grip, their claws ripping holes in her Doctorturers coat.

“Good evening, Medic. I trust we didn’t interrupt anything important?”

“Nothing I couldn’t put on hold, not that I was asked in the first place,” she snipped, her voice only wavering slightly. Mituna was impressed by how well she held herself in front of the two towering highbloods. “What is this about? What have you done to the Captain?”

“The ‘Captain’ isn’t quite the troll we thought he was. It seems he tricked everyone, doesn’t it, Anguem? I mean, of course no one would think he was a mutant. It’s quite devastating, really,” she said, placing a hand on her chest and glancing away dramatically.

“Completely,” Anguem growled, his voice harsh with an undertone of boredom despite the way his hands twitched or his eyes restlessly scanned the room.

“He had us completely fooled, making a mockery of us, of the _Empress_. It’s despicable. Luckily for all of us, I noticed the odd bandages covering his gills on both planets, though he did seem smart enough to use ones that matched his skin this time. If I hadn’t stepped in, this wretch could have fooled you poor souls for sweeps. As it remains, I have taken it upon myself to hand him to the Empress, but the Helmsman doesn’t seem to be in a cooperative mood. I was hoping you could convince our traitor to change his mind. I was under the impression you were rather close. I’m sure you of all trolls feel betrayed, but if you could put that aside to help me I’m sure the Empress would be ecstatic with your service.”

Aphina frowned, looking at Eridan with panic rising in her eyes. Mituna wondered how quickly the word would spread, since she seemed a bit surprised despite the bit Mituna had managed to tell her earlier. She remained silent for a long moment before calmly meeting Paryci’s eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Paryci smirked slightly, but quickly gasped with false surprise. “Why, you don’t even seem surprised. Unless…” she tapped a claw against her chin. “I mean, I did think I saw you handing him something earlier, but I didn’t want to think we had so many traitors aboard. It couldn’t be that…you gave him the bandages he wore today? My, my the Empress will be appalled. Of course,” her face twisted into a feral smirk, “if you were to help us I might be willing to simply…forget to mention you to the Empress. After all, you might only have been following orders and trusting your superiors.”

The silence grew tense, but Aphina didn’t flinch as Paryci’s smirk fell into a scowl. “As I said before, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Paryci’s shoulders fell with a sigh, a hand tucking her hair behind her ear. “Oh, I suppose it can’t be helped. You can’t claim I didn’t try to avoid this. But, Medic, you are wrong about one thing.”

“And what would that be?” Aphina said, frowning as Anguem dropped her arm.

“You can be of great help to us, though you could have made this much easier. Anguem?”

A blur of motion distracted Mituna for a moment, though he growled slightly when it ended with Anguem pressing a knife that had once been tucked into his clubs against Aphina’s throat. A single bead of olive welled to the surface, sliding slowly down the metal.

“I’d hoped to avoid this, I really did,” Paryci said, crossing her arms. “But I suppose I should have expected this. Now, I’m sure you understand the situation, Captain. You’re a smart troll, at least I hope you are. I really don’t feel like explaining it.”

Eridan pulled at the shackles uselessly, though he froze when Anguem pressed the blade ever so slightly deeper. The olive trickle was light, but it was enough to make Mituna’s breath catch though he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

“Stop!” Eridan said sharply, looking like he was collapsing in on himself as he glanced at Mituna. “Helmsman…Paryci is now your Captain,” he spat, though the venom was fading fast as hopelessness replaced it.

Paryci clapped her hands together with a large grin. “Fantastic. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Anguem, take these two to their cells, won’t you?”

As he left, she turned to Mituna with sharp eyes and a sharper grin. He felt his own hope, something he hadn’t felt in sweeps, hadn’t realized he was feeling at all until it disappeared, shrink to nothing as she spoke.

“Take us to Alternia.”


	13. Chapter 13

Eridan leaned against the cool metal of his cell, the shackles around his wrists clinking against the ground. He curled up as best he could, his fins limp and his chin tucked into his chest. He’d been there for days, at the very least a week, the time only broken by a tray of food being occasionally shoved through the bars, as well as the bits of sleep he was able to get. Of course, that only meant that they were that much closer to Alternia.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think of the fate waiting for him once they arrived. The fate he had doomed them to. Guilt burned in his stomach, a knot of it building in his throat that he couldn’t swallow as he tried to ignore the tears that had been prickling in his eyes for days. He hadn’t cried yet and he wasn’t about to start, taking a deep breath as he scrubbed his burning eyes against his sleeve. His death didn’t deserve tears, didn’t deserve mourning. Would anyone mourn? Aphina, perhaps, but she was here, waiting to die alongside him. Coryan? Marion? Bruete? He wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t, after all he was the captain that had betrayed them, tricked them. Why would they mourn? He hadn’t been close to the rest of the crew, though they had been amicable before this. He knew their faces and names, recognizing them as they cycled through whose duty it was to bring them food. None of them seemed hostile, but he still doubted his death would mean much to them.

What about Mituna? The thought of him made Eridan curl up even tighter, his claws digging into his arm and drawing beads of blood to the surface. It was stupid, the way his pusher clenched when even the others name popped into his head. Was he alright? Certainly not, with Paryci as his captain. Did Mituna blame him? He was the one who handed the ship over to her, who’d left him in her claws, who’d let him get hurt through blind stubbornness. Perhaps if he’d just given in quietly she wouldn’t have hurt him, wouldn’t have made him face the glaring pale feelings that made him want to tear him from the bioware and disappear somewhere neither of them could be hurt, where Mituna didn’t have to be a battery and Eridan didn’t have to be the one using him. He really was an idiot when it came to morails, first Feferi and now the Helmsman? His breath caught in his throat as her name, her fate, joined the jumble of his thoughts. His claws dug in harder, the scent of blood sharp but not enough to pull him from his own mind.

“Captain?” A soft voice said, barely a whisper through the metal wall between them. Eridan ignored it, his breaths short and shallow as he tried to push memories from his head and only succeeded in soaking the sleeve of his uniform in blood. It was always his fault, always him who couldn’t do enough to keep those around him from getting hurt. Feferi, Aphina, Mituna, it was his fault. Perhaps his lusus should have let him drown as a wriggler, should have left him in the caverns or on the beach to perish. What good had it done anyone to keep him alive?

“Captain,” came more insistently now, Aphina’s voice lowered but sharper. Eridan drew his face up enough to answer, if only to get her to let him wallow in peace.

“I’m not your captain,” he hissed, his fangs grit and his lips pulled back in a snarl she couldn’t see. Shouldn’t she be mad at him, blaming him for getting them in this situation? If he hadn’t been so stubborn, she’d be free now, even if he ended up in the same place.

“Well neither is Paryci,” she clipped back and Eridan could almost imagine her crossing her arms and rolling her eyes at him. “Prisoner or not, I’d sooner follow your lead than hers.”

“Fantastic,” he growled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest, a mix of frustration and fear making him sound angrier than he meant to be. “Follow me right to your death.”

“You don’t have to sound so sure of that. We’ll find some way out of this.”

Eridan wondered how she could sound so sure of that, even as they sat, chained in cells with no one on the ship willing or able to help them. His chest hurt as he wished he could have even a fragment of that hope, anything but the despair that threatened to consume him. “I doubt that.”

“You can’t know that-“ she cut off at the loud clang of his hands and shackles slamming into the ground as he uncurled suddenly.

“How can I not know-w that?!” He didn’t give a shit about his stutter, his voice echoing in the cells around them and sounding far too loud in his ears. “W-we are on route to Alternia, w-where the Empress is heading as w-well because w-we are traitors to the Empire. I’v-ve accepted my death- “

“You shouldn’t have to!” Aphina interrupted, her voice firm and sharp, shutting him quickly down. “You’re a better Captain than she could ever hope to be. You’ve claimed two planets, both of which were hostile environments, without losing a single crew member, you’re one of the best sharpshooters in the entire fleet, not to mention- “

“I’m defective- “he tried to cut in, but she was having none of it.

“So, what?! You didn’t let that stop you from joining the cadets, from being the top of your class in more than one field! You did what you were able to and you don’t deserve to die for something you can’t help!”

Eridan swallowed hard, unable to speak for a long moment. His mind was racing, but coming up blank. She sounded so much like- he shook his head, his voice quiet when he was finally able to answer. “That’s a rather rebellious line of thought.” As if he was one to talk.

“And? I’m already a traitor! Why should I keep my mouth shut and let myself die without saying anything? If the Empress can really look at the things you’ve achieved and still condemn you to death for your gills then she needs to kiss my ass and get over herself!” Aphina was breathing hard, what sounded like a fist hitting the floor in frustration. “You’re my captain and my friend and I don’t want to watch you die because of some unending loyalty to someone who treats all of us like shit and kills us for things that we can’t control. I know this probably sounds crazy, hell most of the people on this ship would cull me without a second thought for saying that but- “

“No,” he said quickly, pulling at the chain around his neck and looking at the shell pendant dangling from it. One claw popped it open, three things sitting in one half of the shell. A picture, mostly folded and otherwise tattered but still showing a younger him making a ridiculous face at the camera while the girl beside him threw an arm around his shoulder and with her other hand stuck two fingers in his direction. One of his own hands completed the diamond, the girls face as funny as his own. That had been sweeps ago, when they were young and foolish and thought that nothing could tear them apart. Under the paper was a ring, the sign of the Empire shining on the gold. The third was another ring, only with his sign on it. The last thing he had, aside from the memories he couldn’t bear to face. He remembered the plans they had made, the group they had formed. It had been going so well, until he’d ruined it. “I understand the feeling. The frustration and the wish for it to change. But it doesn’t do us much good in here. She has more power and it’s not like we can escape before we get there- “There was an audible click as his fangs snapped shut, the sound of the door unlocking making him jump.

The towering figure stepped into the block, their familiar face doing nothing to calm Eridan’s nerves. He snapped the shell shut and dropped it back down the front of his uniform, watching Marion’s blank face as they slid a tray into his cell. The food was bland, but at least it was there, although Eridan wasn’t sure how hungry he was. What was the point of eating, after all? The sound of a claw tapping on the bars of his cell made him jump, realizing that he’d been blankly staring at the tray. He picked it up, glancing at Marion, who looked at him expectantly.

He wasn’t sure what the other wanted, ignoring them in favor of tearing the bread apart with his fangs. They remained in place as he picked the sliver of barely edible meat from the tray, though at this point Eridan couldn’t help shooting them a confused look. They held a finger to their lips, nodding towards the tray. He glanced down, catching sight of a folded slip tucked where the food had been. He held it carefully between his claws, unfolding it slowly. It bore only his symbol, which made his chest hurt but did nothing to ease his confusion.

Marion lifted the cuff of their uniform sleeve, showing him his own sign drawn in dark ink on their forearm. His eyes went wide as Marion dropped their sleeve and reached for the tray, slipping a second note into his palm as he handed it over.

_We stand with our Captain._

_Alternia grows close._

_Be ready._

It was written in small, curled letters but it was more than enough to spark a warmth in his chest. Perhaps he didn’t have to accept his fate, even if the chances of escaping it were slim. With even this bit of hope he felt stronger, watching Marion walk out of the room with a determination lighting his eyes. Why did he give up so easily? He couldn’t let that happen again.

His name was Eridan Ampora and he refused to die.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'd like to let you know that the next chapter will be the last in this first story, but it will continue in a sequel soon I promise!

Mituna grimaced as pain coursed over him again, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He squeezed his eyes shut behind his goggles, his teeth bared as he forced the ship through space as quickly as it could handle, though that obviously wasn’t enough for the troll in front of him.

She rolled her eyes, impatiently tapping her claws on the metal panel in front of her. “The most powerful psion on Alternia? What a joke, can’t you get us there faster?” she hissed, her eyes flicking to him and back to the map that showed her how far they still were.

“Thith ship wathn’t made to handle more than this,” he said through his teeth, opening his eyes to glare at her although he knew she couldn’t see it through his colored lenses. The sound of her claws drumming wasn’t helping his headache or his irritation, only making him spark more, his hair and hers standing slightly on end from the static electricity. It was all he could do to keep the ship in one piece, much less force it towards Alternia even faster. Perhaps on the Empress’s ship he could have, but this one was made for exploration, not high-speed space travel. It simply wasn’t as sturdy at higher than average speeds.

Even if she couldn’t see his glare, she glared right back at him, turning on her heel and stalking out of the Helmsblock.

He closed his eyes again, letting out a deep sigh and letting himself relax a little, though it was only a moment before the door opened and he barely stopped himself from growling. Was she back so soon? A large part of him wanted to fry her every time she stepped into the block. Not because she was impatient or cruel, or because she demanded the impossible and punished him for being unable to do it. No, it was because of the absolute and undeniable glee he heard in her voice when she spoke to the Empress. It was because she forced him to agree with her, to turn Eridan in as a mutant and a traitor, unable to argue with any chance of winning. It was because Eridan was going die and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He took a deep breath, trying to reign in the extra sparks he was sure were flying around before opening his eyes.

Coryan stood before him, wide-eyed and trembling slightly as though he’d never seen a Helmsman before. Perhaps he hadn’t. The teal glanced at the door, stepping further into the block, and peering briefly at the control panel.

Mituna raised an eyebrow behind his goggles, forcing the exhaustion from his voice. “You are not authorized to enter the Helmsblock.”

“I know,” he said simply, glancing at the door again and frowning. “She won’t be gone for long, will she?”

“I doubt it,” Mituna answered carefully, taking a quick look at the cameras. She was leaning against a table in the mess hall. Anguem sat, tearing into his food as she spoke to him, probably complaining about the “slow” journey. The normally two perigees trip completed in a couple of weeks wasn’t enough for her, he supposed, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do about it. Any faster and the ship would fall apart.

“Ith there thomething you need?” he asked, wondering if his voice sounded as dull to Coryan as it did to him.

“To save the Captain. The _real_ Captain,” he said bluntly, his eyes narrowed, and his arms loosely crossed in front of him.

“That thoundth like treathon,” Mituna said slowly, not wanting to let his hopes rise only to crash as burn again.

“Seems to be a theme lately, doesn’t it?” He said, sighing, and throwing out his hands. “Turn me in if you want. But Aphina spoke of you as a friend.  I thought you might be able to help.”

“How exactly were you expecting me to help?” Mituna’s voice was hesitant, his fangs digging into the inside of his cheek.

Coryan shrugged, crossing his arms again. “Just keep the ship from reaching the Empress. If it lands somewhere else…or even takes a detour that lets a pod escape at least we can have a chance.”

And there was the catch. Mituna, while in control of the ship, still had limits, things the Captain had to order or approve. “I can’t change the coordinateth of our dethtination. There are programth in plathe that’ll shut out my control if I try to change courthe.” He knew he shouldn’t have even let himself begin to hope, expecting Coryan to leave now that he knew the plan wasn’t going to work.

Instead there was a long silence. “And…if we can take care of that, will you help?”

“How would-“

“We have technicians on our side. There are more people who want to get rid of Paryci than we thought. I was surprised too. Maybe one of them can help,” his voice was getting faster, more frantic as he grasped for the hope Mituna was so cautious about reaching for.

“I can’t promise what I’ll be able to do-“

“Can you promise you’ll try?” he said, his voice strained.

Mituna paused and nodded, watching the bright hope that filled his gaze.

Coryan grinned and dashed out, leaving Mituna to contemplate the event in silence. He could feel a spark of hope lighting cautiously in his chest, though it was almost burned out by the anger that surged alongside it. Why hadn’t they said something sooner? They were willing to rebel now, to risk their lives for his now, but not then? Had they been willing to let him die if Paryci had turned out to be an alright captain?

His fangs grit, his eyes narrow behind his goggles. He couldn’t let the anger distract him, if they truly intended to save Eridan, much as he wanted to be furious for their lack of action. After another minute he heard Paryci enter the block again, his loathing for her forever outweighing any resentment he held for the crew.

The next time she stepped out, Mituna pulled up a map of Alternia, making note of safe places they could land and making plans of his own. Though it didn’t help that he had no clue exactly when this was going to take place, or when the technician would visit. Hell, he didn’t know if they could even help.

It was a few days of anxious waiting before someone new stepped into the block. Mituna could only assume they were the technician based on their uniform, but they weren’t one he was personally familiar with. Their horns were short and sharp, their hair cut close to their head. The blueblood approached the control panel, glancing briefly at the Helmsman. “I assume you know what I’m here for,” they said quietly, tapping at the screen.

“You’re here to deactivate the control programth,” he replied just as simply, watching him work.

“Mhm,” they grunted, tapping away. “I hope Coryan’s right about this.”

Mituna blinked, able to feel the programs shutting down in the back of his mind. “Thank you,” he mumbled, stretching his mind to its new limits.

The other troll was quiet as they put the control panel back into proper order and wiped the screen. “We’ll provide a distraction. When you hear the alarm, it’s your turn to act.” He nodded, watching Alternia grow closer. It would be less than a day now.

They left, the light of the Helmsblock flicking off behind him as Mituna began to make his own plans. He briefly wondered if their escape plan included him as well. Part of him imagined freedom, while the other part didn’t care and quietly accepted his fate as he always had.

It was hours later when he heard the blaring of an alarm, the acrid scent of smoke making him scrunch up his nose. As soon as Paryci left the Helmsblock to investigate, the door locked and a shudder ran through the ship. This was his show now.

The ship protested at the sharp turn Mituna took, the metal hurtling into Alternia’s atmosphere. They were shooting away from the meeting place, hopefully before the Empress noticed that they hadn’t showed up. The systems screamed a destination at him, but he ignored it. It was oddly exhilarating to be able to ignore it, to not have the ship he powered block his actions. He could hear Paryci pounding on the door, screeching orders that he ignored. The ship rattled around him, pulling up to float over a heavily wooded area next to a large lake as he searched for a place to land. As he found a clearing among the trees, the sound of screeching metal made him jump. The ship lurched with his surprise as Paryci stepped over the pieces of the door, the rifle in her hands blue with a violet symbol emblazoned on the side.

Rage flared in her eyes, her teeth bared as she leveled the barrel at him. “You’ve been an annoyance since day one,” she growled. “Take us to the Empress.”

“If you kill me, you’ll never get to her,” he said, caught off guard by the harsh laugh she replied with.

“I’m not stupid. I know there’s a backup battery in the control panel in case of emergency. I can fly us there manually with or without you.”

Mituna only hissed, his eyes narrowing. Hers did the same and before Mituna could even blink she pulled the trigger. His psionics instinctively flared, deflecting the energy. Both trolls watched in horror as the blow instead struck the control panel.

It exploded in a shower of sparks and metal, the connector between the Helmsman and the engine disappearing in the blink of an eye. The bioware slackened, not releasing him but letting him hit the ground as the entirety of the ship vanished from his mind. His head cracked against the metal floor, the movement yanking at the ports. His vision blurred, his head throbbing and his ports screaming as the slight numbing the bioware provided disappeared, though the tendrils were still taking power though it wouldn’t go anywhere.

He couldn’t view the systems, but he could feel the ship lurch sideways, shudder, and drop.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit:THE SEQUEL IS POSTED!!  
> Hey guys! First of all, this chapter has violence, blood, anxiety and character death.  
> This is the last chapter of this story, but the series will continue very soon. This isn't the end of Eridan's story, I promise! Hope to see you all in the sequel!

Eridan could smell smoke and hear shouting, standing, and gripping the bars of his cell as he tried to get a look out of the windowed door. He could barely see, just catching the slightest bit of movement through the opening in the door. There was a sharp clang as the door slammed open and two trolls tumbled through. Eridan stumbled back, watching as one troll grabbed the others horn and slammed their head against the floor in an echoing thud. They stood from the limp body, panting with a trickle of teal falling from a set of scratches on his cheek. Despite this, he turned to the cell door and grinned widely.

“Evenin’, Captain!” Coryan chirped, grabbing a set of keys from the unconscious troll and unlocking the door to Eridan’s cell, then Aphina’s. Eridan only blinked as the other unlocked the shackles around his wrists, his mind still racing to catch up with everything that was going on. He slowly rubbed feeling back into his wrists, the skin somewhat broken and angry violet.

“Coryan- “

The other cut him off by pulling a rifle from his back and shoving it into his hands. “We tried to find your big blue one, but I think Paryci might have taken it.”

Eridan turned the gun in his hands, his eyes narrowing as a growl rumbled deep in his chest. That rifle was _his_ hatchright, not hers, but he took a deep breath. Raging now wouldn’t help, would it? He could save that for Paryci.

“We?” he asked, his voice quiet. The other nodded, pulling a set of daggers from his belt and handing them to Aphina.

“Me, Bruete, Marion and about…a dozen others I think?”

Eridan paused, tilting his head. “A dozen?”

Coryan shrugged, “About. Maybe a few more if Marion managed to get some more of the higher bloods on board. The other medics want to help Aphina, and there are teals and blues who are more than a little…rebellious toward the new captain. She hasn’t made a good impression.”

Eridan felt a small lump in his throat, swallowing past it and looking down at the rifle in his hands. “Why? I’m- you realize you could all be culled for this? Hell, if the ship reaches the Empress we’ll _all_ be culled.”

The other tilted his head. “I guess…there are some of us that prefer to be treated like trolls.”

“That still doesn’t _explain_ -“

“You stood up for us! You didn’t send us as cannon fodder or act like a single one of us was expendable. You called me by name and never once mentioned my blood color or anyone else’s. The most offensive thing I’ve heard you say to any of use was ‘dirt scraper’ but that was right after Anguem suggested sending ‘sludgebloods’ back to the first planet so I don’t really care.” He took a deep breath. “You’re a good troll, Eridan. You’ve kept us alive, now it’s our turn.”

Eridan felt himself grinning, heat pricking behind his eyes. “W-well…let’s go then.”

They stepped into the hall, the sound of fighting getting louder. The sound of weapons clashing made him cringe, the memories whispering to him. He gripped his rifle and shook them away, looking down the hall. “Where’s Paryci?”

Coryan frowned. “She might be at the Helmsblock, trying to regain control of the ship. That is, if she isn’t fighting with the rest of the crew.”

Eridan raised an eyebrow, earning a grin.

“The Helmsman is on our side too. He’s finding us a good place to land.”

His eyes widened, his cheeks warm but there was a cold spike of fear in his gut. “I’m going to the Helmsblock,” he declared, turning the corner, and skidding to a stop. A group of trolls clashed in the hall, a nearby one turning to Eridan with a sneer. He barely had time to dodge as they lunged at him. A blade scraped his cheek, but he threw himself backwards to avoid further damage. He blocked the next strike with his gun, pushing them back and ducking another blade before swiping their legs out from under them. They hit the ground hard and Eridan stepped on their wrist, forcing them to drop the knife. He hit their temple with the butt of his gun, their eyes rolling back as they fell into unconsciousness, though there wasn’t a moment to rest as he felt arms wrap around his neck and drag him backwards.

He let out a choking noise, dropping his gun and struggling. Throwing an elbow back into their stomach, he felt their grip on him loosen and his lungs almost painfully refilled. His hands wrapped around their arm, dragging them over his shoulder. They hit the ground with a wheeze, stunned for a moment. He took that moment to grab his gun and place a foot lightly on their neck as he shot the weapon from an indigo’s hand before they could run a lithe cerulean through. The troll under his foot clawed at his leg, at least until the butt of his gun also connected with their temple.

Eridan ducked through the crowd, trusting that his soldiers could handle themselves. Of course, he barely broke free of the main crowd before he found a bulky indigo blocking his path.

“Anguem,” he hissed, bracing for the fight. The other said nothing, but offered an unnerving smirk before clubs began swinging. Eridan sidestepped the first swing and ducked the second, only to take the third to the side of his head. His horn throbbed, his ear ringing as he felt Anguem’s hand wrap around his throat and slam him into the wall.

Eridan struggled, wheezing for the second time that evening as his air was cut off. He clawed at the hand, his feet kicking only a few inches off the ground. Anguem’s smirk only grew, their grip tightening as a sick delight lit their eyes.

Suddenly, the other stiffened and let out a growl as a sickle sprouted from their shoulder. Eridan felt the hand release him and he hit the ground, dazed as he watched Anguem whip around to face Coryan, who held the sickle that was not currently embedded in Anguem’s shoulder.

He tried to drag himself to his feet, only able to watch as Coryan ducked the clubs. One of the large, clawed hands managed to grip Coryan’s shirt, knocking him into the wall. They didn’t bother choking him, instead pulling a knife from his clubs. Eridan was dizzy, but had managed to grab Anguem’s hair and yank him backwards. The larger troll flung Coryan down the hall, where he hit the floor with a resounding ‘ _clang!_ ’ before crumpling to the floor.

Eridan could only hope he was unconscious as Anguem turned on him, pulling an arm back to throw one of the blades at him. The dagger flew just past him, but his eyes followed the movement for a moment too long. His back hit the wall, his head cracking against the metal and his vision blurring. There was a metallic flash before a burst of pain as Anguem jammed their second blade into his shoulder, the tip scraping the metal behind him. He barely kept from screaming, bringing up his free hand to drag his claws across the others face. Indigo blood painted his hand as the larger troll stumbled back with an enraged roar.

Eridan dropped to the floor, spotting his rifle across the hall. He scrambled toward it, grabbing it and whipping around. His back was to the floor, Anguem towering over him. He tensed, lifting his rifle and firing. The shot echoed against the metal walls, but somehow the sound of the large troll crumpling to the ground was louder than any gunshot. Perhaps that was because of the stunned silence that rippled through the hall. After a tense moment, a sharp cheer came from those on his side, though he found his own voice blocked by nausea. He hadn’t wanted his crew to die, especially not by his own hand.

He turned to see Bruete checking his morail’s pulse. “Make sure the death is kept to an absolute minimum,” he hissed, bracing himself against the wall as he wrapped a hand around the slick handle of the knife and pulled the blade from his shoulder.

The other grimaced at the violet that stained his uniform, concern heavy in his eyes. “I’ll…do my best,” he promised. “But…Captain, should someone accompany you-“

Eridan cut him off with a shake of his head. “I’m fine. I have to deal with Paryci on my own.” He paused to grab Anguem’s blades and slide them into his belt. He managed to keep his pace steady and he started again down the hall, hearing the quieted sounds of fighting fade into the distance. He limped slightly, leaning against the wall to catch his breath just down the hall from the block. His shoulder throbbed, pain radiating throughout the entire limb, but he pushed himself off the wall as a crash shook the hall. He could see the broken and smoldering remnants of the door from here, his eyes widening as Paryci darted out of the door. She didn’t seem to notice him as she dashed the other way.

He barely had time to wonder where she was going before the ship shuddered and began to drop. Panic tightened in his stomach, slicing through his chest as he scurried into the Helmsblock. The bioware was loose, piling on the ground around a figure. He kneeled beside him, tugging at the bioware and grimacing as he examined the ports they were attached to.

A soft groan reached him, the body shifting and yellow blood trickling from his temple. His head lifted, faint sparks running up his horns. “Captai- the ship ith crashing! You need to get to a pod, they should thtill have power.”

“And where would that leave you?” he growled, pulling a knife from his belt and sawing through the tendrils of bioware. He didn’t have time to find a release mechanism, if one even was in one piece.

“You won’t- You need to get off the ship. There’th too much- the bioware ith thtill taking energy, even if it’th not going anywhere. There ithn’t time to free me. We’re far enough from the Empreth, you can make it.”

Eridan shook his head, dropping the tendrils as he sliced through them, though it was going so much slower than he needed. “What do you want me to do? Leave you for her to find?”

“If I’m lucky, I’ll die in the crash,” he muttered, earning a sharp growl.

“Like hell.” The last tendril fell away, sparks flying from the severed ends.

Red and blue slowly engulfed the psion, lifting him into the air. The other blinked and looked at the ports along his arms, grabbing one of the tendrils and tugging at it until it came free with a trail of yellow blood following it. He did the same with another, his psionics seeming to grow stronger as each one was removed.

Eridan grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward the door. “You can do that once we’re out of here-“

He cut off as the screech of twisting metal rang in his ears, the walls around him crumpling as the force of impact threw him across the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fangs gritting. A pair of skinny arms wrapped around his waist, holding him against a bony chest. The sounds of the crash died down as he peeled his eyes open, watching in awe as a wall of sparks kept the metal from crushing them. He could feel the warmth of another troll against his back, a sharp chin settled between his horns.

“Mituna?” he said shakily, his voice cracking in a way he was glad no one else in the crew was around to hear.

“Thorry,” he heard, the arms loosening but not quite letting go as he lowered the other to the ground. Eridan looked at the torn metal, grimacing and stiffening as something cool and wet soaked into his boots. He looked down, his eyes widening and his breath catching as he saw water pouring in through a tear in the floor. His face paled, his gills aching. They had crashed, but they were sinking. He’d survived, but he was going to drown.

His chest began to hurt, his breath shallow as panic rose in his throat. Warm hands closed around his shaking ones and he felt himself being lifted from the water. “How are we gonna get out of this?” he asked as soon as he was sure his voice could be trusted. He turned his head, the others colored eyes narrowing with confusion.

“I…don’t know. I keep trying to thee the mapth and thythtemth but-“ Eridan felt a pang of sympathy, watching him try to adjust. He needed time…but that wasn’t something they had.

He pointed through the crumpled doorway. “The hangar is down that hall,” he told the other, wincing as his wounded shoulder shifted. The sparks around them intensified as they darted through the metal and down the ruined hallway. Water was pouring into through the cracked windows and ripped seams of metal. Eridan noticed a few trolls on the ground, color mixing and diluting in the water. They didn’t move. Eridan tried not to think about it.

The hanger was missing a few pods, others tipped over and ruined by the water filling the ship. Eridan grimaced, wiggling out of the others grip. His feet hit the floor, water soaking into his pants and lapping at his calves. He forced himself to breathe, bending to shift supplies scattered on the ground, finding a rebreather and handing it to the Helmsman before finding another one for himself.

“We’re going to have to swim for it,” he said in a strained voice, shakily finding a first aid kit and using bandages to seal his gills. He tried to force the fear down as it threatened to freeze him. He could barely swim, not to mention the fact that even the thought of the cold water made his stomach clench with fear. It didn’t help that the blood loss was leaving him dizzy, his vision going in and out of focus.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, tugging him toward the bay doors. They were jammed, only open a few inches and letting water gush in. Eridan could feel it at his knees now.

“Thtand back,” Mituna warned, floating in front of him with a hand still on his wrist. With a flick of his fingers, a wave of psionics tore the door open. The water surged in, flooding the room even quicker. He felt it climbing his chest, his gills flexing uselessly under the bandages as he shoved the rebreather over his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and dove beneath the surface. He dragged himself through the hole, panic attempting to force itself into his chest.

He did his best to keep his breathing normal, grabbing Mituna’s arm and dragging him as they clawed their way to the surface. The troll beside him spat out the rebreather as soon as they broke into open air, couching and breathing heavily before lifting himself into the air. Eridan felt the force gently lift him as well, though he couldn’t say the floating helped his nerves much when he was floating above deep water. He kept the rebreather in his hand as they zipped toward shore.

A pod lay on its side with several trolls surrounding it. Coryan lay in the sand, Bruete over him with a bow in hand. Aphina kneeled beside him, wrapping his head as an arrow was launched into the blade wielding troll that darted towards them. Marion spotted them from their position crouched on the pod, waving a club in greeting.

Eridan stumbled as he was dropped to the ground, frowning. “That landing could have been softer,” he muttered, cutting off as the psion collapsed. “Mit- APHINA!” he called, his voice edging on panic.

She stood and hurried to his side, pressing two fingers to his neck. “He’s alive…just exhausted I think. I don’t think the remaining bioware is helping any.” She gestured to his ports. “I…I don’t have the supplies here. I’ll see what I can find in the pod-“ there was a wet choking noise as she went quiet. Her hands went to her chest, her breath turning into coughs and hisses as olive flecked her lips and stained her shirt. Her knees seemed to give out as she coughed more heavily, blood splattering the sand as Eridan caught sight of the handle of a blade buried in her back.

Behind her, Eridan could see Paryci stalking towards them from the trees, stumbling slightly. There was a crashed pod behind her, tucked into the trees, probably the first one to crash. Eridan let out an enraged shriek, pulling Anguem’s blades from his belt. Knives weren’t his best weapon, but he could make due. As she rushed toward him, he hissed and followed suit. Her blade swiped down, catching the front of his uniform. His own arm lashed forward, the blade hitting her wrist. She dropped that blade, but growled and tackled him, digging her claws into his injured shoulder. His back hit the sand, her claws going for his throat next.

Eridan shoved her off of him, flinching as she lunged at him again and gripping the knife in his hand. Before she could get to him though, something sprouted from her shoulder. It was bright and almost fluffy. She looked at it and ripped it from her skin, hissing and turning to the forest. A line of trolls emerged, their clothing ragged though they held rather impressive weapons.

She growled, brandishing her knives and hissing at them. The one at the front was a bronze blood with tall, smooth horns. He wore a pair of ragged trousers and a loose shirt, a large sword balanced on his shoulder and a silver chain glinting around his neck. His eyes narrowed and motioned to a troll next to him.

Eridan couldn’t see what happened, but there was a loud crack and Paryci crumpled where she stood, cerulean leaking from a hole in her chest. He scrambled to his feet, backing up to stand closer to his crew. Aphina was still, the sight of her making Eridan’s chest hurt.

Bruete still stood over Coryan and Mituna was still unconscious, though Marion stood alert on the pod. Eridan could only hope that they didn’t have to take on all of these trolls themselves. He saw a brightly colored dot appear on Bruete’s chest and Marion’s, similar to the one that had appeared on Paryci. Before he could say anything, he felt a prick and looked down to see one on his own chest. A metal dart with a bright tail, stuck in his skin. He felt something like cotton beginning to feel numbing spreading over his skin. His head, already fuzzy with blood, was swimming worse than before as he felt his legs give out under him. What was this?

He saw Bruete stumble and fall, while Marion slipped from the pod

A firm hand grabbed his arm and looked at the other troll. It was the leader from the group, looking at him with disdain. “He’s a captain. Maybe he’ll be useful,” He huffed.

Eridan couldn’t help but notice the pendant hanging around his neck. It was a symbol he knew, a symbol most of the Empire had seen at some point or another. A symbol of rebellion, though not of the peaceful one Eridan had once been so familiar with. This symbol brought up memories of violence and fear and splashes of pink across the dirt. If he hadn’t been unconscious, he would have been filled with rage. But for now, he couldn’t force himself to even think, much less move.

This was what he wanted when he joined the cadets, in a way. To meet this rebellion again, to get revenge. They probably wouldn’t remember him, but even if they did it didn’t matter.

They had him now.


	16. Announcement

I will be deleting this later, but I just wanted to let you know that the sequel is currently posted with the first two chapters up!


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